


Ad Astra Per Grump [unfinished fragment]

by Lancerlandshark



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, ai!barry, alien raptor!kevin, and packed with random references, android/robot!ross, bug alien!suzy, but nothing too graphic, cyborg!mark, dan is human, holly is human, raptor!arin, sci fi as fuck, science alien ninja brian, some violence and angst and a bit of shipping, space grumps, space grumps au, thanks to dannyaviclan on tumblr, this shit is weird but fun, youtubers will be referenced at times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 32,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancerlandshark/pseuds/Lancerlandshark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Space Grumps AU fic based on the framework dannyaviclan made, but with my own twists on it.  This starts before the group gets together in an alternate 2015 where technology and context are different, but pop culture and ages are pretty much the same.</p><p>It starts off with backstory and will eventually turn into Grump shenanigans in space as the crew of the Starbomb!</p><p>Due to a lot of life circumstances, I cannot foresee finishing this work. Thank you for your commentary and compliments, and feel free to continue this on your own if you wish.</p><p>I decided to add the graphic depictions of violence tag just because there is some talk of blood, pain, and medical treatment of wounds.  It's not too graphic, but I know some people have some trouble with blood and gore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time to Go

2015, Alternate Timeline: Australia

Earth was not as nice a place as it used to be.

“Shit, we have to get off planet now!” a woman in her twenties was shouting, dragging her bloodied up husband behind her. The pair had left California to check on his family in Australia and avoid the mess in the Americas, but the Singularity and subsequent computer crashes and glitches had led the Australians to just as much anarchy. There was rioting in the streets.

“Holly, how the hell do you think that’s going to work? The regulations for going off Earth are so tight now…” the man groaned, thinking about how the mass exodus from Earth on the rockets with functional systems eventually led to an immigration quagmire. He’d immigrated once in his life, but he wasn’t eager to do it again in anarchic times.

“Well… look at you! You got caught in that spontaneous riot and didn’t even do anything and yet you’re so beat up. We have to go. I know you’re hesitant, but…” she trailed off at the sight of yet another riot up ahead. This group of thugs had guns. Holly reached to her smart watch and pressed a button onscreen. The technology used to be useless, but she was clever enough to program the husk of the technology into a calling system for her BIRDs with the help of some other BIRD enthusiasts.

The Biologically Inspired Robotic Designs spread their mechanical wings and flapped out of a compartment in Holly’s multipurpose bag and assumed a defensive perimeter around the couple, but several BIRDs got swatted away and a few were shot down. These groups thrived on chaos and were born of the new attempts to get computers up and running. Many people did not indulge in the new technology, but some did, and on the seedy underbelly that was the new Internet, hate groups sprang up, made plans, and executed coups and terroristic threats with calculated precision. This group seemed to be simply trying to take over the streets for protection racket purposes, which was still troubling.  The media of the time had deemed them "Comment Thugs" as a warning to avoid comment sections, and despite the stupidity of the name, it ended up sticking.

A stray bullet intended for a Guardian BIRD ricocheted off one of its carbon fiber wings and hit the man square in the chest, and he crumpled instantly.

  
“ROSS! NO!” Holly screamed, hefting her husband up onto her back before he went into shock. She immediately turned and ran for the nearest safe space, grabbing a BIRD out of the air with her free hand and seeing to it that it didn’t end up damaged. First Officer Feathers wasn’t going to go down so easily if she could help it. She’d developed a bond with that particular BIRD’s AI. Her mind ran in a million directions at once. The hospital was a no go. Since most of their technology was on old systems and the new systems were still being tested on patients. She wasn’t about to let Ross die on her watch, but the medievalesque methods of the hospital system were not her first choice.

She lighted on an idea, but it was crazy. Still, it had to work. She tracked her surviving BIRDs and hurried into the safe house. Thankfully, the nearest safe house was Ross’ family’s house, so she had some of her tools. It was insane, but the only way to possibly save him and get off planet ASAP was to initiate the Jafari Protocol.

About a year ago, her fellow BIRD scientist Jon had faced down a similar threat and lost his friend Jacques, but thanks to some quick reprogramming and some virtual reality transfer protocols, Jacques was surviving inside a parrot-inspired BIRD. He actually proved to like it, but Holly was apprehensive how Ross would take it… if he even survived.  
On the surface, Holly worked frantically, a busy commander to the end in personality, but she fretted endlessly just beneath her calm exterior as she checked Ross’ vital signs, read up on the Jafari Protocol, and used her small rig of tools and old computers to start programming. She backed up the BIRD’s AI into a PERCH chip, then started the as yet rarely tested process to back up human consciousness into a nonorganic body.

Hours of literal blood, sweat, and tears later, and she readied the Ross-BIRD to boot. This situation was possibly to her advantage. Despite losing her husband’s body and her very unconventional response, it was better than facing near certain death for him with the band of “Comment Thugs” and the underequipped hospitals. She could conceivably take them off planet if she could convince the powers that be for interplanetary travel that she was an AI programmer for various systems. It wasn’t entirely true, but she had enough experience making sure her BIRDs were operational, enough mechanical aptitude, and computer experience from before the Singularity that it just might work.

A beep and some whirring sounded as the light behind the BIRD’s mechanical eye lit up gradually… followed by a tinny, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?”

In retrospect, it may not have been the best idea for Ross’ first sight after reawakening to be his own body in a pool of blood, barely touched since he passed out from shock. But… the Jafari Protocol worked.

“Um… Ross?” Holly tested, poking a series of commands into her BIRD watch to make sure Feathers was on alert in case things got hairy…

“WHAT THE FUCK? AM I FUCKING DEAD? WHERE THE FUCK AM I?” the faintly accented tinny voice continued screaming.

“Yeah, you’re okay… you definitely survived…”


	2. Revival

            “What the fuck do you mean I survived, Holly!?  WHY AM I DEAD?  Why does everything look huge?  Why do I sound so fucking weird?  What the fuck is going on here?  I remember that scrap with the gang and then… this!  I know you’re my wife and I’m supposed to trust you, but do you mind explaining what the fuck is going on?”

            “Ross, come on.  Calm down for a second.  I know it’s… traumatizing.  But if you don’t listen to me we won’t get to get out of here.” Holly pleaded, drained of a lot of energy from the mental and physical stress of figuring out how to back up consciousness into machines and knowing that if she messed up, she was short one very important person.

            “It’s a little hard to calm down when I am staring right at my own dead body!  That’s NOT a good sight!”

            Holly grabbed a sheet from what was left of the stack of linens that the O’Donovans did not choose to take with them when they left a week prior.  They eventually got through the legal quagmire and left the anarchic mess on Earth, but Ross’ stubbornness had delayed the chance of following his parents.  She gently covered up the corpse, which relieved them both.  She didn’t realize just how taxing it was to have to look at her loved one’s remains while trying to hold a conversation.  She sat down on the nearest clean chair, trying to figure out where to start.

            “Well, what do you remember?” she asked, trying to get a gauge on just how much of the traumatic last twelve hours she needed to relive.

            “I remember the first gang, how just passing by got us beaten… or me, really.  I wasn’t about to let them hurt you if I could… and then I remember trying to get back to a safe zone and the guys with the guns.  Last thing I remember is a BIRD going down.  What the fuck happened to lead to THIS?”

            Holly sighed.  She was afraid this was about where she’d have to pick up.  “Okay, well just as that bird got hit, an improbable ricochet caused a bullet to hit you in the chest.  I’m not a doctor, but from how quickly you went down, I think it hit a vital organ and you lost a lot of blood.  I know our original choice of safe house was in the wrong direction, but your parents’ place was close, and the hospital just wasn’t an option…”

            She continued to review the events of the prior evening, outlining her choice of mechanical resurrection since, unless one happened to be a pigeon, she wasn’t much help to nurse anyone back to health from the brink of death.

            “So that doesn’t explain why you made me like this… Are you really so obsessed with your BIRDs that you had to put me in one?” Ross snapped, clearly stressed by the recounting of traumatic events.

            “It was what I had!  If I had anything better, I’d have done that, but I know what notes I got from Jon were enough to at least get you so you weren’t gone forever!  Do you know how tight the window of time I had was before you were too far gone to save?  You could have ended up no better than a pre-Singularity AI, if that!  I could do with a little gratitude!”

            Ross approximated a sigh with the mechanical BIRD voicebox.  “I’m sorry, okay.  You’re brilliant, and I am glad that I had my beautiful wife there to help.  It’s not easy realizing that you’re fucking dead.  I don’t recommend it.”

            “I had a plan, though.  If you’re willing to act enough like an AI to back up a story, I can bypass a lot of the red tape with the Useful Skills clause and get us out of here and to somewhere with reasonable rules, good tech, and maybe something a bit more fitting for you than a pigeon chassis.” Holly grinned weakly as she finished, trying to bring some optimism back to the situation.

            “I’m listening…”

            “I could act like an AI and light robotics mechanic.  I know my work with my BIRDs hobby will give me enough jargon to sound the part, but I’d need you to back me up.  I have enough supplies left from my old cosplay stuff to make some props, and once we’re there, there’s no guarantee of employment, so we can get away with doing what we need to do.  We just need to bypass the laws intended to stop everyone from leaving Earth at once.”

            “That might work, but you’re too tired right now.  Rest.  I guess I don’t need to anymore, but you do and, if I have my way, will continue to need to rest.  You’ve got to have been up for going on 24 hours.  Feathers and I will secure the house once I get a bit more used to getting around in this shell.”

            “Thanks…” Holly yawned, lying back and falling asleep nearly instantly.  She was so far gone with exhaustion that she didn’t even dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot and exposition! That's about it.


	3. Leaving is a BITCH

About a week later, the two were ready. They approached the Bureau of Interplanetary Travel for Chartered Humans with paperwork in hand. Holly had pinned her hair back into a smart, professional style despite the unique coloring. AI mechanics were a quirky bunch anyway, so she hoped pink hair wouldn’t put up any flags to discredit their story. All of her BIRDs that she could repair were in her bag, except for First Officer Feathers and Ross, one on each shoulder. She entered the BITCH building, sat down, and waited for the receptionist to return from who-knows-where.  
“No pets,” a grouchy sounding voice insisted as a facsimile of greeting.  
“They’re not pets. They’re work samples. The forms said that if you are applying for the Useful Skills transport that you must bring proof of skill. I’m a mechanic. I work on AI and light robotics, and these are my BIRDs,” Holly retorted, glad she had practiced as much as she could.  
“Okay. Take a ticket and the officers will come to get you for an exit interview. If you’re approved, you have 24 hours to pack.”  
This, to Holly, was the hardest part. Local governments really didn’t have much control over the BITCH, which was run by an international committee for public safety and peace. As such, the Bureau had every trait of the worst bureaucracies. The DMV and airport customs had nothing on waiting on the BITCH. At least due to Ross’ condition, she only had to work through one interview and one set of paperwork, then, with any luck, she was out.  
Finally, after what seemed like hours, a uniformed man came and escorted Holly and her flock to an Inspection Office. “Ms. Conrad, welcome to the Bureau. Please, take a seat.”  
“Thank you.”  
“So, you wish to leave? Why now, if I may ask? It is rather unusual for mechanics to leave these days, since rebooting the systems is finally taking off… especially for an American to come this far to Australia, only to leave,” the man inquired, suspicion clouding his voice despite all efforts to remain professional and difficult to read.  
“I know. I didn’t come to Australia for work, though. My husband was a citizen here, and he came to check on his family. We lived in California, but being so close to Silicon Valley after the Singularity was problematic. So I came back home with him. Sadly, I am actually trying to leave because neither his family nor he is around anymore. His family left on a shuttle and,” she paused, allowing a tear to roll down her cheek for effect, “he died last week in an unfortunate accident with some Comment Thugs. I’d really like to leave so I don’t have to relive that trauma every time I visit his old favorite places,” she sniffled, surprised internally by the fact that her acting bled into real emotions. He’s still here, she reminded herself.  
“I’m sorry for your loss. I understand. Should the paperwork fail to go through, I will do my best to expedite a request for you to relocate, at least.”  
“Thank you. If possible, though, I fear for my own safety. I know robotics mechanics are in high demand off-planet, though. I’d like to leave Earth.”  
“I understand. I hope to help you out, but first, may I see the work samples? Policy dictates we verify your actual skills to best place you with a colony.”  
Holly triggered Feathers with her watch, then fiddled and fumbled aimlessly to give the illusion that she was activating Ross instead of letting him turn his own system on. “Before all of this, I was really into birds, especially pigeons. After relocating so much with the Singularity and the strong AIs wreaking havoc while the small ones glitched computer systems and small tech, I couldn’t keep pets anymore because I wasn’t staying in one place long enough, so when things stabilized and AIs stopped going rogue the moment you booted them, I got some BIRDs. A hobbyist told me the basics, and then I learned more with the community and got really good at reprogramming them and maintaining them. I’ve learned to repurpose old tech, which is always helpful at lowering waste costs, and I helped program my personal helper AI, First Officer Feathers, and a companion AI, Ross.”  
Feathers flapped over to the officer and perched on his desk. “Feathers, please bring me a pen,” Holly demonstrated, watching Feathers scan the desk, grab a pen, and bring it to his commander. “Thank you.” Feathers cooed in response, then sat on her shoulder and awaited further commands.  
“Impressive. And this Ross?”  
“I got lonely, especially after losing my husband. I know he’s a fairly new AI, but I was going to go crazy if I didn’t have someone to talk to. I reprogrammed some basic AI code and found him to be sufficient. He’s semi-sentient, Three Laws compliant, and unlike Feathers, who is only coded to make artificial bird song, does talk. Hello, Ross.”  
“Hi, Holly. Hello, officer.” Ross tried to keep as civil as possible to help their chances, but he was going a bit stir crazy. He couldn’t fidget, he couldn’t find something else to do, and he wasn’t the most patient person to begin with. If they didn’t get out of here soon, he was going to say something he regretted.  
“Hello. Are you Turing Tested?” the officer asked Ross directly. He was struck by the fact that this job was so unusual at times that he no longer even questioned that he had to talk to a BIRD.  
“Yes. I think approximately as well as an average human,” Ross lied, knowing that he was clearly a superior human.  
“He won out over the human example in the Turing Test approximately 50% of the time, which puts him at the typical human level. He is also well versed in pop culture knowledge and humor in order to keep typical conversation, and he can learn based on sensory information,” Holly elaborated. “Ross, care to tell the man how you deal with threats?”  
“COME AT ME, SCRUBLORD, I’M RIPPED!” he taunted, before laughing, “Nah, I’m messing with you. I do work off of the same protection AI that some of her other BIRDs have, but of course, I can’t hurt other humans unless they are directly attempting to harm Holly.”  
“Interesting taunt…”  
“I based it off a joke my husband used to make. It’s dumb, I know, but it’s funny to me and cheers me up,” Holly quickly covered, shooting Ross a pointed look to remind him to stop screwing around. He returned with a brief look that could only translate to, “Fuck you, I’m funny.”  
“I see. Is his code open sourced or proprietary?” the officer asked, looking over a set of questions to see that all bases were covered.  
“I’m one of a kind, dude!” Ross interjected before he could stop himself.  
“The personality is proprietary because it’s too close to a real person, but I have the base code with intelligence but not personality that can be made open source if an employer needed to make other companion AIs or needed to merge a companion with a helper AI to meet a citizen’s needs,” Holly clarified.  
“Ah, thank you, Ms. Conrad. That will be sufficient. Please return to the waiting area and we will be with you shortly.”  
“Thank you. Ross, Feathers, please come along.”  
The BIRD and BIRD chassis followed her out into the waiting area. “Was that enough?” Ross asked.  
“You didn’t have to say some of that. Goddammit, Ross… But at least you proved yourself to be intelligent and responsive, which should be enough for the BITCH.”  
First Officer Feathers cooed at Holly. “Yes, Feathers, you did great too. I hope it’s enough.”  
An agonizing period of time later, the officer came out to meet Holly again. “Please report back here by noon tomorrow. We have processed your request and you and your BIRDs will be on the next shuttle to Phobos, the Martian lunar colony. Their robotics and AI lab is well-established, but as the population increases, they could always use more mechanics and programmers, plus their civilian population is still small enough that you can get a comfortable living quarter. Again, I am sorry for your losses. Thank you for your time at the Bureau.”  
So, it was settled… they were going to be on the next shuttle off-planet, and then maybe if they made some friends on the colony, they could get Ross into something a bit more fitting than a BIRD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you hadn't figured out, I am having a lot of fun with the acronyms. Also, stir-crazy prankster Ross is fun as hell to write.
> 
> Prepare for perspective shifts.


	4. "Fuck you too, buddy!"

2015, Alternate Timeline: A laboratory on the planet Koga

            The angry man stood over his particle accelerator and scowled down at it.  “That’s not how that’s supposed to work!  That’s completely against several physical laws.”

            The experiment in process was supposed to be a leap forward in quantum propulsion technology for the planet’s fleet of ninjas to move through space as stealthily as they could through land and sea, but instead, it appeared to be the case that the engine was emitting excessive amounts of light and heat.  ‘Get a degree in theoretical physics,’ they all said, ‘everything will make sense.’  Bullshit.

            A low ranking assistant slipped into the lab quietly.  “Mr. Wecht, sir, you have a visitor.”

            “I am really busy right now.  Please tell them to go.”  He turned his angry scowl on the assistant, who cowered slightly.

            “They say it’s important.”

            “And I say I am busy as fuck.  You know I’m not human, right?  That I’ve got Kogan reflexes and can kill you in at least fifty ways right now?  Do you want to see that?” His voice was quiet but the threat seemed real.

            “That’s quite enough, Brian.”  The visitor appeared in the doorway.  At the sight of this unexpected guest, Brian put down his clipboard and promptly gave the visitor the middle finger.

            “Well fuck you too, buddy!  No, but seriously, do you have a moment?  I was in the neighborhood and wanted to catch up.”  The visitor was obviously human and looked a little worn down from his last trip and the trip through the planet’s security.  Still, Brian had to admit that this was one of the few guests he would allow in the lab, even if he was busy.

            “Okay, come in, Dan.  But touch anything and I will kill you immediately.”

            The tall, lanky visitor nodded and sat on one of the lab stools.  He brushed a long, curly strand of hair out of his face and began to hum a catchy tune while Brian agonized over the results.  “What’re you doing, man?”

            “I’m TRYING to make this fucking machine work, but right now the little cocksucker is trying to break several laws of physics.  I know I’m the theoretical research guy, but fuck, I hate when my science sasses me like this.  What are you doing?”

            “Eh, I was in the neighborhood.  I had to be the NSP ambassador, you know, boring shit like that.”

            “Sexbang, you’re full of shit.  Since when are you an ambassador of anything but your own dick?  Besides, the Northern Star Patrol doesn’t usually go the diplomatic route.”

            “But that’s the point!  NSP has really branched out.  They needed a funny guy who could bring people together.  I’m a comedy musician, not just a soldier.  Besides, I know that wars are expensive.  They’re trying to strike a balance.  Also, hot alien chicks,” Dan finished with an exaggerated pelvic thrust for emphasis.

            “All right, well if you want to catch up and jam a little, let me power down the accelerator.  Today’s research was going nowhere anyway.”  Brian moved toward the machine’s control panel and had an immediate wave of foreboding.  “DAN, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!  NOW!”

            Dan knew better than to argue with the combat-trained alien and activated his Patrol shield, backing away from the lab.  “C’mon, move, dude.  You don’t wanna be here.  Brian never tells me to get out unless shit’s going down,” he urged the assistant, standing guard at the door.  Knowing Brian’s penchant for violence and the danger that quantum malfunctions could cause, the assistant scurried away.  Dan got to a safe distance and watched through his shield as things got rough.

            The accelerator had gotten too hot and taken on too much energy from running the propulsion simulation.  Brian had gotten distracted.  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” he muttered, frantically trying to run damage control.  He entered the emergency shutdown code as the machine creaked and groaned, flexing in ways that no machine holding high powered destructive energy should flex.

            The power cut off in the machine, but the flexing and warping continued.  The front panel finally burst, throwing shrapnel.  Brian managed to use his reflexes to duck under a lab table, but a stray chunk of hot metal sliced through his throat, so hot it cauterized instantly.  The good news, he realized as he stood up, was that it missed nerves and blood vessels, and his higher speed reflexes and healing as a Kogan definitely helped him survive.

            The bad news, as he discovered when trying to call out to make sure no one else was injured in the lab explosion, was that he was completely mute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I know nothing about particle physics and shit and just had to go for something that sounded plausible? Maybe some deus ex machina too.
> 
> I'm a writer, not a scientist, and while I like to do my research, the particle and theoretical sort of things break my brain.
> 
> A lot of planets and races are based on real stuff. Koga is based on a ninja clan.
> 
> Yes, there is a decent explanation coming for how Dan and Brian are even friends.


	5. Silent Rage

            Brian was FURIOUS.  He had no voice, but he wanted to scream in bloodlust for the makers of this stupid fucking machine and stupid fucking theoretical physics and FUCK.

            Dan, still hiding behind his shield, peers over the red star insignia and through a bullet- and laser-proof glass panel to see the wreckage of the Kogan lab.  “That’s not good.  Brian?  Buddy?  You okay, man?” he called out.

            Brian, eyes burning with a fury that was barely contained, emerged from the debris, turned, and flipped off the lab with both hands.  He turned to Dan and pointed at his throat, a nasty scar telling the story better than he could.

            “Fuck, dude.  Fuck… dude.  So can you talk?”

            Brian shook his head.

            “Should I get an elder?”

            Emphatic shake.

            “What now?”

            Middle finger.  Shrug.

            “Brian, dude, you have to do something.  You know there will be questions.  You can’t answer the questions right now.  You know what they do to useless members of society!” Dan pleaded, memories of the last Kogan war flooding him.  He was on the opposing side, as the NSP had been called in as an elite force by Koga’s enemies.  The war was eventually stalled due to a treaty, but he saw plenty of wounded ninjas, those who could survive outside of the army but no longer fight, killed instantly.

            The treaty between the Elders, escorted by several ninjas, and the piratical forces who hired NSP, escorted by Dan and several other patrolmen, was tense, but the aftermath at a Kogan bar eventually led to his unique friendship.  Brian killed a few people who opposed the friendship, and so the Kogan scientific corps begrudgingly gave Dan the same respect as they gave their high-ranked scientists.

            Dan simply would not have the scientific ninja sit there and accept death.  He saw too many ninjas die before he befriended one, and he wasn’t going to let his inactivity be as deadly as his prior activity had been.

            “I’m getting a lead scientist and we are working this out.  Don’t fucking argue with me,” Dan decided resolutely.  He raised his red-star shield and blocked a well-thrown shuriken.  “Brian, no.  You know I am a fighter as well as an ambassador, and I will subdue you if I need to.  Fight me and you will know my wrath.”

            Brian backed off.  He knew that beneath the jovial exterior of the tall human warrior, Dan was perfectly competent at merciless killing.  That was what made Brian respect him in the first place.  His wrath was something Brian had only seen once… and once was enough.

            Dan hurried off, shield on his back, and got another scientist of Brian’s rank.  Then, thinking quickly, he got a tablet and a stylus and handed it to Brian.  “Brian, you know what you have to do.  Remember our deal or I swear by all that is holy you will regret it,” Dan reminded him.

            Brian scowled, glared, and shot Dan a particularly aggressive middle finger, but began to type the details of the accident.  “I will clean this mess, but there were rogue elements of this particular test.  They overheated the accelerator.  Hot shrapnel took out my voice.  I have demands.”

            “Demands?” the scientist asked, reading the message that Brian typed out and logging it into the scientific results database.  Brian glared, pointed at the scar, and held out a hand.  “Oh, yes, here you go.”

            “1. Voice back somehow.  Don’t care how.  I’m not writing my shit out every time.  2. Transfer departments.”

            “I can arrange a new voice with the biological engineering department, but what do you mean transfer?” the scientist asked, offering the tablet back.

            “I know I will have to work this debt off.  Science is amazing and my passion, but I can earn more as an assassin.  You know I am qualified.”

            “Fair.  I will see what I can do,” the scientist considered, then sent an assistant to Bio for the voice demand.

            A few hours of poking, prodding, and testing later, Brian’s arm was sterilized and a needle injected a clear reddish liquid into his veins.  After the requisite waiting period, an engineer entered the room.  “Can you talk?” he asked, jotting notes down on his own tablet into a now much more detailed file on Brian.

            Of course luck wasn’t on Brian’s side that day.  He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out… again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One-sided dialogue with insignificant side notes, yay? Lots of setup and plot stuff.
> 
> I'm not sure if it's gonna be a side story to go more in depth or if there will be flashbacks, but yes, we will see more about the war and Dan and Brian's friendship.


	6. The Usual Spot

            /FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!/ the expletive hit anyone in a few meter radius of the examination room, causing several people to wince at the force of the voice in their heads.

            “Brian?” Dan peered in to see the raging ninja scientist and the engineer looking about in confusion, the engineer pulling himself together long enough to jot down notes.

            /What the fuck is going on?/ Brian thought out, a bit softer and less piercing.

            “Mr. Wecht, as you know, Kogans are very responsive to body modifications.  You did say you didn't care how you got your voice back, so we are testing a telepathy mod for better stealth combat.  It appears that it worked."

            “Telepathy?  Sweet, man!” Dan interjected.

            /You would say that, wouldn’t you?/ Brian thought, trying to direct it at Dan only.

            “Yeah, dude, this is totally fucking new to me and you really can be that silent ninja guy you wanted to be!”

            “Um, sir?  May I please finish this treatment without your intrusion?” the engineer asked, respectful of the friendship but uncomfortable at the thought of a former enemy warrior in his lab.

            “Right, right.  Bye, Brian!  I’ll be in the usual spot.”

            /Don’t even dare try to lay the Kogan women./

            “No fun!” Dan called back down the hallway as he left for the observation deck to people-watch and try to find an attractive ninja woman.

            The engineer and a team of his coworkers finished a full analysis.  Finally, the engineer ran the data by his superior, who checked a few boxes, signed off, and directed her attention to Brian.  “We have deemed you capable despite the throat injury due to this treatment.  You get to live on the condition that you submit reports on the telepathy if it varies or creates an abnormal condition in your missions.  You rejoin the assassination squad tomorrow.  See to it you are certain of your limits and abilities.”

            /Of course.  I’m always capable,/ Brian asserted, making sure all of the engineers and superiors in the vicinity could hear him.  He got up, switched out his lab coat for a full ninja hood so that no one stared at his throat, and glared at everyone as he walked down the science corps’ corridors.  He stopped by the wreckage of his old lab, grabbed his multipurpose plasma tool and a few shurikens, and tucked them under his belt.

            Brian scanned the room as he entered the observation deck nearest his living quarters and immediately noticed the NSP uniform and shield among the day to day wear of Kogans.  /Dan, I’m out.  Fit for combat.  Of course./

            Dan cut off a conversation he was having with a gaggle of Kogan women fascinated with his war stories and approached Brian.  “Rough break, though, huh?  One day you’re sciencin’ it up; the next, you’re back on the front lines?  I thought that’s why you went to lab work in the first place?”

            /No choice.  I would rather work a few years to earn enough to find my way back on the science corps than lose my position and be a lab lackey, barely making enough to get by.  I have the credentials,/ Brian thought to Dan, shuddering at the thought.

            “No shit.  You know you’re one of maybe five people to actually almost kill me?”

            /I would in an instant if I didn’t like you./

            Dan just laughed.  He knew the statement was more than just a joke, but he wasn’t going to take things too seriously.  He had to get back to NSP duty tomorrow, but tonight, he was going to have one of the first partial telepathic conversations he had ever had, flirt with hot ninja women, and maybe even sing if he found an open mic somewhere in the complex.

           Meanwhile, Brian cultivated an air of tough silence, projecting a “don’t fuck with me” look even when he was silently talking to Dan about bloopy reggae jams.  Dan’s laughter didn’t appear to faze him, even if he was laughing along in his mind.  This image was something he had learned even when he could talk aloud, and it had a purpose.  If he had to go back to being Ninja Brian and not just Science Brian, he was going to make sure people recognized that the hardened, battle-forged assassin was back on duty.  Since the assassination squad did allow specific requests, he hoped his reputation would precede him and be lucrative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of goes along with the original headcanon that Brian is a telepath. Those of you who saw this on Tumblr may notice that I did a little cleanup with the scene.
> 
> The next time you see these two, there is going to be a slight time skip.


	7. They Did on the Internet

2015, Alternate Timeline: The Starbomb, somewhere in space

            “You ready to navigate this bitch?” the captain asked his AI system, setting out for yet another solo mission in his personal ship.  He wasn’t particularly rich, but he found this sweet giant ship for sale back on Earth, needed to get the fuck out anyway, and so he liquidated his assets and made it home.  The Singularity… what a bitch that was.  And what a bitch dealing with the BITCH, so fuck it.  The Starbomb left Earth, but not before the AI awoke.

            “You’re having a bit too much fun with this, I think,” came a reply from the AI’s speakers.

            “I always have a bit too much fun, but fuck it, I have a space house.  Think about all the space and room in this ship—“ the captain started before the AI cut him off.

            “I am the ship.  I know exactly how big this ship is.  3,000 square feet in area over two floors.  You used your entire animation budget to buy me.”

            “Thank you, Barry...” the captain grumbled, “Anyway, think about it—who wouldn’t be psyched as fuck to make this their base of operations?”

            “Then why don’t you have a crew yet, Arin?”

            Barry was always asking the obvious questions, which really irritated Arin’s typical ‘fuck it adjustment’ attitude about his work.  “I’m workin’ on it!  The notorious caption for hire Egoraptor of the Starbomb, with his trusty AI, Barry!  Who could resist?”

            Barry manifested his typical onscreen avatar, a brunette with a close cropped beard, and adjusted it to an “are you fucking kidding me” look.  “Arin, flashy titles don’t get jobs.”

            “They did on the internet, Barry!”

            “Yes, I am aware.  But guess what… this isn’t the internet.  This is space.”

            “Whatever,” Arin muttered, his old title of the grump starting to fit more and more, “Just navigate the ship, will you?  We’re off to take an escort job.  Theropodus, 3rd quadrant, and the faster we get there the better our tip will be!”

            “As you wish.  You know that’s not exactly a common destination, right?  The dominant species there is a little different than our usual jobs.  I believe the closest parallel to something you’d know is a dinosaur.”

            “Dinosaur mission?  Hell yeah!  I bet it was the name, Barry!  I TOLD YOU!” Arin yelled, laughing all the while.

            “If you get eaten I am autopiloting to the nearest responsible owner,” Barry sighed.

            “I’m not gonna get fucking eaten.”

            A few hours of high-speed travel later and the Starbomb began to slow and descend into the orbit of Theropodus.  Arin pulled up the mission dossier again and looked up his client’s details.  A young, but still mature, dinosaur-esque alien in a hat appeared on his projector.  “Bit of an odd dude, but if he pays well enough, who the fuck am I to care?”

            Suddenly, the ship ground to a halt with a screeching noise.  “Barry, what’s happening?”

            “I can’t move the ship in any direction.  I think we’re being tractored.  This is bad,” Barry explained.

            “No shit, Barry.  Can we eject?”

            “Nope.  I’m pretty much sitting here.  My functions beyond talking and basic ship maintenance are blocked.  I’m pretty sure I’m being hacked.”

            “Prepare to accept a passenger!” a voice hissed over Barry’s speakers.

            “Who the fuck are you!?” Arin screamed at the microphone.

            “PREPARE TO ACCEPT A PASSENGER!” the voice screeched again.

            “Fine, fine, Barry, disengage the locks and allow the passenger into our airlock.”

            “We have control of your Barry.  He can’t do anything!” the voice hissed.

            “Then why hasn’t the guy just bust into my ship yet?” Arin retorted.

            “There is a way that these things are done, Captain,” the passenger explained as he broke through the defenses.  The very same client that Arin had been reading about was now standing inside the common area of the Starbomb.

            “So, I escort you somewhere, right?  That’s the deal.  Where to?” Arin asked, suddenly switching to his professional demeanor because his money was on the line.

            “Sorry, man, this was a trap.  My superiors need someone from off-planet to fulfill a mission, but it’s not an escort mission.  I’m really sorry, I have to do this.  This isn’t my usual thing, but orders are orders…” the alien explained before jamming a stun gun right into Arin’s back.  The last thing Arin remembered was crumpling to the floor under the high voltage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Arin is fun to write.
> 
> Prepare for angst in the next chapters.
> 
> Also, poor Kevin, poor cinnamon roll raptor alien dude, too good for this job, too pure.


	8. DINO Team

2015, Alternate Timeline: Theropodus, 3rd Quadrant

            Arin woke up in a dark room with a splitting headache, unable to move.  “Fuck, what happened?” he groaned, trying to sit up and realizing why he couldn’t move.  He was strapped down to a table, and the straps were too tight to move without seriously hurting himself.

            “This isn’t sexy, folks.  I know you want a piece of this, but there’s a much better way to get a piece of the Egoraptor!” Arin tried, hoping a bit of humor would diffuse the situation, or at least get someone’s attention.

            “Well, they’re in luck, because they’ll get a lot more raptor for their money soon,” the same voice that invaded Barry’s speakers hissed with an ominous mirth, turning some light on in the room to reveal an official-looking raptor alien. “I am Larry, and you will listen to me or I will see to it that Kevin here makes your life miserable.”

            The smaller raptor alien hung his head.  He was clearly not okay with his use as bait for the trap, nor his current situation, but there really wasn’t much he could do.  As a member of the Department of Inorganic and Natural Offenses, he was responsible for creating and editing the new designs for weapons, even the sentient ones.  He was hired on a contract basis, so he knew he had to stay on the DINO Team’s good side or else he’d never get another contract on the planet.

            “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?  Egoraptor’s just a name, dude.  I used to use it on Earth for internet creations.  There’s no way to get more raptor out of that, I just like the name.  It makes a good handle for my business.”

            Larry looked Arin over and continued, “We have other plans, though your little business name was something that flagged you as someone who may be sympathetic to our cause.”  His look was absolutely predatory.

            “Barry was right. GOD DAMN IT!  AND LET ME GO!” Arin shouted, using what he could muster of his will to fight to try to just break out of the restraints.  Larry let him struggle, chuckling to himself, while Kevin squirmed uncomfortably.  Having to watch the prisoners fighting the modifications would be the hardest thing to get used to.  He idly wondered if Larry was once in his position, or if the sadistic reptilian superior was always this way.

            What felt like an eternity to Arin and Kevin later, Arin collapsed into the restraints, bruised, sweaty, exhausted, head still throbbing in pain, and crying.  “Please.  I don’t need payment.  I don’t need anything.  I just want to leave with my safety intact.  I’ll even pay you.”

            “A tempting proposition, but alas, no.  Kevin, prepare the procedure,” Larry commanded.

            Kevin hesitated, but decided not to have to sit through another lecture on who the alpha raptor in this organization was again and prepared a set of monitors and medications.  This design was his baby, after all, and if he didn’t follow through, he would never see if this worked.  He began to assemble the monitors, muttering to himself.

            “Sedate him,” Larry commanded, seeing signs of a second wind appearing in Arin already.  “This won’t work if he won’t stay still.”

            “Yes, sir,” Kevin whispered, mouthing an apology to Arin for having to do this.

            If this worked, Arin would have good reason to be grumpy when he woke up…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arin, you mouthy pain in the ass. Still so fun to write.
> 
> Larry is a douche! His name is based on the joke about the Barry/Kevin fusion being a dickish editor, but personality is just supposed to be a bunch of psychopathic tropey shit because it's kind of fun to write.
> 
> Next chapter will have a warning ahead of it, but I'll warn it here that it's got some angst, graphic descriptions of pain, and mentions of blood!


	9. It's a Pumbloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic depictions of pain and brief mentions of blood! Also implied body horror.

            The first thing Arin noticed upon regaining consciousness was the pain. The second thing was also pain. Honestly, if Arin were to make a list of things he felt right at that moment, the top 50 entries would all be pain.

            His body felt twisted, on fire, and stretched to capacity.  His mouth hurt worse than a punch made of knives to the jaw.  His back felt scrunched up.  He itched, oh jeezum he itched, but there was no way to scratch and he wasn’t even sure if he could make his body move even if the restraints weren’t there.  His eyes felt like dry sandpaper rubbing on his eyelids.  He was pretty sure he was on the rack being tortured, with splinters under his nails and no way to relieve any of it.  He felt like he should be sweaty from the exertion, but what he could feel outside of the pain told him a different story.  This had to be the single worst day of Arin’s life… and he’d endured Sonic Boom.

            The pain would be enough to drive anyone insane, but then there was the HUNGER.  Arin had never been so famished in his life.  He’d probably eat roadkill if those sadistic lizard bastards offered it to him, he reasoned.

            To the outside observers at DINO, the process was moving along quite smoothly.  Teeth and claws came in nicely, scales had indeed hardened the human’s skin to a much sturdier level, and the tail and slight physical stance changes needed to accommodate it had moved along without a hitch.  Everything else was up for analysis when Arin finally awoke.

            “Good work, Kevin.  You have a future here if this keeps up,” Larry praised.

            Kevin should have felt elated.  Praise from his harsh superior was hard to come by, from all he had heard in his short time working for the Department.  And yet some nagging feeling made him question it.  Did he even want a future here?  Trapping the captain was too easy, yes, but as he stared at the man, now partially raptor, he wondered if he could compartmentalize his feelings enough to keep going in the future.

            “Thanks…” he muttered, working under the pretense of collecting data even though he had plenty and burying his face in his notes.

            He didn’t have to fake the data for long, because just as Kevin jotted down a space for new information, Arin shrieked and yanked at the restraints.  “HELP ME, YOU FUCKS.  I’M GOING TO DIE HERE!”

            “No, you’re not.  Calm down, you’ll make it worse.  You’re not used to anything anymore.  Please, please don’t fight this,” Kevin begged, trying to do his job while also build any sort of good favor back with his unwitting subject.

            “If I’m not going to die, then make the pain stop or kill me!  This is the worst I’ve ever felt!  I’ve seen some shit.  I’ve put up with some shit.  But what will I put up with today?  NOT FUCKING THIS!”  Arin was babbling from the pain.  Anything kept his mind off of the all-consuming pain and hunger, even though he had just encouraged the sadistic superior raptor to kill him.  He didn’t care what was or wasn’t a good idea anymore.

            “Relax, Mr. Hanson.  You’ve been through a lot of trouble and burned a lot of energy.  I assume you would perhaps like a meal?” Larry asked, suddenly a lot less sinister and more inviting.

            “I don’t know why you’re being nice to me, but yes, oh my god yes, food, please,” Arin whined.

            “Right away.  Kevin?”

            Kevin released a small pink creature with yellow features into the room and released Arin from his bonds before scurrying out of the way.

            “It’s a pumbloom.  Local delicacy.  Go for it,” Kevin encouraged as he closed the door.

            The next few minutes were a bloody blur of feeding frenzy as Arin tore into the creature, not caring for seasoning or cooking or anything other than the fact that he was so hungry.  As he cleaned the remains of anything edible, he looked down for the first time and noticed the claws on his hands, the blood dripping from his jaw (and, running his tongue over his teeth, their new shape), and perhaps most alarming, the tail extending from his back.  “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

            “Get cleaned up,” Larry insisted, ignoring the question.

            “I don’t think you realize something, but I said WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK and I don’t know WHY I look or feel like this but I do believe you can see that I am made of weapons now so I suggest you answer me!” Arin snarled, a low growl backing his voice.

            Larry stepped to the side, deftly avoiding the clumsy and angry advance of the raptor hybrid. “Why, thanks to your trapper here, you’re one of us now.  More accurately, you’re not, but we hybridized you.  You do not work for your prior employers now, Mr. Hanson.  You belong to the Department of Inorganic and Natural Offenses until further notice.  We have indeed weaponized you.  You may even be pleased to know our species is an advanced version of what your species called an Eoraptor.  Yes, a fitting choice indeed that you join us… Egoraptor!”

            Arin facepalmed, noting that his skin was a lot thicker and being thankful for it as his claws grazed his face.  “You did all of this for a fucking pun, dude?  If I weren’t so angry I’d high five you for that alone!”

            “No, no, it’s just a coincidence.  What happened is all too real, and the coincidence was just a happy accident.  I really did think you might be a bit more sympathetic because of your choice of alias, though.”

            “I’M FUCKING NOT!” Arin screeched, lunging at Kevin this time, “And I blame your sorry ass for this mess.”

            Kevin thanked his lucky stars that he was agile.  “Just doing my job.”

            “That’s enough.  Get cleaned up of that bloody mess and get used to your form.  You’re learning how to use it tomorrow and then you are going to be our weapon.  You have stronger senses due to your human genetics and we will be using those to our advantage,” Larry decreed with finality and a snarl. 

Arin understood that snarl.  That was a ‘we can easily just kill you and put someone else through this’ snarl.  He didn’t know how he easily translated that bit of alien body language, but he noticed the concealed weapons in Larry’s and Kevin’s uniform coats and acquiesced… for now.

            In the atmosphere of Theropodus, Barry checked his internal chronometer and realized that, if Arin were to leave the planet, he would have done so by now.  If only Arin would learn to listen to him, this would have been a lot easier on everyone.  He set a course for the nearest friendly neutral planet and resolved to find a more responsible captain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arin isn't full raptor and the raptor aliens aren't 100% raptor either, but that will be described later. Still, yes, some freaky shit happened. Surprisingly this is canon in the AU.
> 
> Where is Barry going? We'll see!
> 
> I'm sorry for the really bad Eoraptor pun. I'd been saving this up from the moment I started googling raptors.
> 
> I almost just titled this chapter "Angst and References."


	10. Mark With Pliers

2015, Alternate Timeline: Phobos Colony Housing Quarters

            The cyborg brushed a strand of his hair back and behind his ear as he toiled over his newest work.  It had gotten too long again, but the women in the robotics lab told him his “floof” was too good a look to mess with.  He was inclined to believe them, so he dealt with the inconvenience for the time being.  It wasn’t long enough to be a safety hazard with his engineering work yet, so it could stay.  The newest work he had on his plate was a personal project, so he had to design everything on its own.

            “Mark?  What are you doing?” a voice disrupted his work as Mark flicked his eyes up, triggering a screen on his HUD-enhanced glasses.  Wade was calling him again from his quarters on Deimos.  The two had left Ohio at the same time, but Mark’s engineering degree got him placed on the more technological of the Martian lunar colonies, whereas Wade spent his time in the communications hub spreading news and information.  Unlike Mark, Wade was fully human, but their differences never bothered the pair.  Like usual, the two were talking as Mark tinkered with his projects.  He could be a real workaholic sometimes, but he had some cool treasures in his quarters to show for it.

            “Just trying to make better accessories for my computer.  The machine itself is fine, but I need something a bit stronger than the consumer model to deal with the stress I put on it.”

            “In other words, you snapped a keyboard again!” Wade laughed.

            “YES!  I don’t know my own strength with this arm sometimes, you know that!”  For someone who could crush the average human with his robotic arm, Mark was surprisingly sensitive about his strength.

            “Yeah, I know, man, calm down.  You rag on me all the time—turnabout is fair play.”

            Mark grumbled an unintelligible response and stared down the components of his reinforced keyboard again.  More grumbling, this time with some audible swearing and random noises ensued.

            “That bad, huh?”

            “YES.  Who the fuck designed this thing?”

            “That’d be you!” Wade chuckled, trying to get a rise out of his friend.

            “I wouldn’t need the thing if everything hadn’t happened…” Mark grumbled again, engrossed in setting up a solid steel keyboard casing, then testing it, then noticing it bending again under what felt like a reasonable amount of pressure.  “FUUUUCK!”

            “Right arm problems again?”

            “Yep, the usual…”

            “Dude, keyboards aren’t usually made for cyborgs.  Robot arms are heavy and strong, you of all people know that.”

            “Actually, Wade, robots in general are heavier than you would expect, even with all the mechanical advances they’ve made towards lighter weight, consumer models,” Mark explained, sending some diagrams he had filed in the chat client to Wade.

            “I don’t need your freaking work log unless it becomes news; I was making a point,” Wade scoffed.  He could always count on Mark to miss the point by just enough to be irritating whenever robotic parts were concerned.

            “Reinforce it again here, and then…” Mark muttered, oblivious to his friend’s irritation as he tested the frame again.  “IT WORKED!  YEAH!”

            Wade was honestly used to it by now.  Mark was always prone to spacing out when he got really into something, and only having the focus to talk about it.  “Really?” he asked, only half interested but too bored to call anyone else.

            “Yeah, I can stream this over if you want, but the frame works, so I can put the keys in!”

            “That’s fine, I don’t need to see it on my chat, but good for you.”

            Mark began to set the keys into the frame for the keyboard, then snapped the casing back together with his human arm, which was slightly stronger than an average person’s, but not going to break all his efforts immediately if he messed it up.  “Hang on, I’m hanging up because I need to switch glasses and changing my hookup is a bitch,” Mark warned, pulling out his personal soldering iron and plugging it in.  He flicked his eyes down quickly to hang up hands-free, then prepared the casing for its permanent attachment.

            After the iron warmed up, he swapped his glasses for safety glasses without re-linking the HUD like he did for work sometimes, and fired it up.  A few minutes later, the keyboard was done.  It was heavy and built like a brick, but it worked!  He fanned out the room, turned off the iron, and switched glasses back to his standard wear, then snapped a picture with the HUD’s built in camera and posted it to his personal page.  Internet was way more stable in the colonies and resembled that of the pre-Singularity Earth’s, so he had no issues posting to his Instantgraham: “ **markwithpliers** Look!  I made an industrial keyboard! #engineeringfun #tinkering”

            He then called Wade back as he hooked it up to his computer.  After the pleasantries were over, Wade jumped back into the topic at hand: “I saw that picture.  Dude, did you try to make a keyboard or a weapon?”

            “Do I need to explain the physics of reinforcement and the space you need to put for trusses?” Mark retorted, grinning despite this chat being voice- and text-only.

            “If you give me another science lecture I swear to god I am colony-hopping to kick your metal ass,” Wade threatened, laughing through his attempts to make the threat credible.

            “My ass is not metal!” Mark defended, which was technically true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of characterization and setup, but the plot doesn't really get real for Mark until later. Still, this is one of those chapters that exists to avoid a lot of confusion later. This fic assumes that Mark is into games, but never got into them professionally in light of computer troubles, so he was an engineer anyway. I also have this headcanon that he loves to talk about his newest gadgets, but it bores the hell out of everyone, so he uses his long-winded ramblings as a threat.
> 
> I almost put a flashback in here as to why he's a cyborg (hint: he wasn't born this way), but I decided to hold off until a more active chapter for reasons.
> 
> I can't write Wade for shit, sorry.


	11. Make Yourself Useful

2015, Alternate Timeline: Phobos Colony Space Docks

            Despite how slow the government offices could be, Holly had no complaints with the shuttles the BITCH sent the Useful Skills transports in.  She woke up most of the way to the colony well-rested, and though she got some funny looks for bringing her BIRDs in her carry-on instead of in luggage, she had no issues charging up the chassis for Ross.  So far, the only downside she noticed of his temporary condition other than the obvious was that the act of hosting human consciousness sapped the batteries of her BIRD over twice as quickly, so she used the time to let Ross charge up.  She even turned the processor off at his request so he wouldn’t get stir-crazy again.  He was a lot more prone to being stir-crazy when he had to act like a standard companion AI, so this gave both of them a chance to recharge and figure out what to do.  When Holly woke up, she started Ross’ boot process, allowing him to reorient himself before the vessel disboarded.  She had noted that he took a few minutes each time she rebooted him to adjust to his location and situation, though thankfully he was a lot less shouty each time after the first.  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” he mumbled.

            Although Holly was acting for the BITCH officer, she had resolved to try to at least do support work for the engineering department so that she could commission something a bit more humanoid for Ross.  He had grown to accept the situation, but the ability to surprise people who expected a standard BIRD and the mobility did little to make him want to stay in the chassis.  He had no idea what Jacques was talking about when he reportedly chose to stay a BIRD, but more power to him, Ross supposed.

            The pair disembarked from the shuttle with little to no fuss after the artificial gravity adjusted to a more earthen level, although a few people gave Holly a look that said they were already going to know her as “the BIRD lady.”  She brushed it off and dragged the giant suitcase that held as much as she could fit into it down towards their assigned living quarters.  Her multipurpose totebag with her toolbox and her essential collection of BIRDs felt light enough to match the specs of a pigeon chassis’ carrying ability, so she held it out.  “Ross, I know you can carry this.  Make yourself useful.”

            “Are you sure about this?  This bag is huge!”

            “Goddammit, Ross.  I built the BIRD.  I know what you can and can’t carry.  Please make this easy on me so I can drag this heavy-ass suitcase.”

            “1123, 1125, 1127, and… here we go.  1129,” Holly counted, stopping at a door and entering the default login codes she had been given at takeoff.  The door cracked open, revealing a sparsely furnished but manageable apartment.  “We’re off Earth… at least…” she grunted, shoving the suitcase into the door.  Ross was at least considerate enough to lower the bag instead of dropping it.  Holly left the apartment again to stand at the panel of the door and start reprogramming it to respond to her own details.

            A light metallic thunk resounded behind them, and a metal hand appeared, bracing itself on the door frame as a voice hurriedly finished, “Yeah, I’ll call you later, I may finally have a neighbor over here after this place has been empty for a month… Yeah, later, I have to go!”

            “Um… hi?” Holly responded to the sudden presence.

            The rest of the body appeared, hastily clearing the screens of his glasses so he could see and they could see his eyes.  “Hi. I’m Mark.  You must be the new neighbor, huh?  I’m guessing you’re a science type based on you even being here, right?”

            Holly awkwardly chuckled, wishing she could just take a moment to relax before she got to know everyone around her.  “Yeah, Holly.  I do mostly light robotics.  I’m a BIRD person myself.  You… seem really into it,” she replied, gesturing awkwardly at Mark’s arm.

            “I’m an engineer, and no, this isn’t some crazy body mod fad.  There was an accident a few years back, and they had to replace a good chunk of my body with robotics.  It’s better than being dead, right?  You’d think it’d help me with the engineering side, but it’s just what it is,” he replied, catching himself before he babbled aimlessly.

            Holly caught herself before she responded about knowing what it was like.  “Oh, I see.  That’s cool?  I think?”

            Ross flew out and perched on Holly’s shoulder.  “What’s taking you?  We need to get set up!”  He turned to the other guest in the hall.  “Hi?”

            “You weren’t kidding about the BIRDs, huh?  This guy’s… different,” Mark observed, realizing that even the parrot BIRDs didn’t seem to have this good a grasp of language.

            “He’s my companion… oh, fuck it, you’re gonna hear us anyway, right?  He’s my husband,” Holly explained, figuring it would be easier to find a chassis or a source if she was up front, and knowing that a lot of trouble could be avoided by having a neighbor in on it.  She had no idea why, but she trusted the cyborg more than she expected.

            “All righty then,” Mark answered in a high voice that did nothing to disguise his surprise, “I mean it’s a bit weird, but I’m not one to judge, right?”

            “Not like that.  He’s not a companion AI.  I had to do some emergency work to save his life.  You know what that’s like, right?”  That came out testier than Holly had intended, but it was out on the table.

            That remark stung a bit. Mark sputtered, at a complete loss for something to say.

            “No, she’s not kidding, man.  She knew that guy, goes by JonTron I believe, who knew enough about BIRDs to save his friend.  She had to use his research notes.  Believe her or not, but get used to me being around,” Ross challenged.

            “The Jafari Protocol?” Mark asked, realization triggering instantly.  He hadn’t gone deep into it, but he had heard about that when Wade was talking about some weird news he’d discovered.

            “Yeah, that.  Jon helped me get set up with my BIRDs when I couldn’t keep my real birb—birds, that is—and I still wanted to keep pets.  I got a hold of his notes on Jacques and never expected to have to use them, but it’s either that or a dead husband, right?” Holly explained, sounding borderline hysterical as she finished.

            “Enough with the fuckin’ dead husband bit, please,” Ross pleaded, wincing slightly at the thought.

            The cyborg’s glasses had turned white and were scrolling slightly.  “You still there?” Holly asked as she hit enter on the password lock to change her settings.

            “Oh, right, right, sorry,” he apologized, hiding the window.  “I was reading up on the Jafari Protocol.  Fascinating stuff.”

            “I’m not looking to stay a BIRD, though.  I’m kind of hoping to get into something a bit more like what I’m used to,” Ross finished, ogling the glasses.  “Is that display a cyborg thing?  I could do with something like that on a chassis.”

            “Yes and no.  The glasses or any other lens I want to use is hooked to a cloud computer to let me pull up things like that, but I power it and have a few functions outside of the computer’s range.  It’s awesome for diagrams and plans when I’m working.”

            Ross looked pointedly at Holly.  “I’ll try,” she replied, making a mental note.  She was sure her mental notepad of things Ross would like on an android body would become a novel and involve several questionably legal things, but that seemed doable at least.

            “You seem pretty busy, so just don’t be a stranger,” Mark finished, finally picking up on the hint that the tired and unusual couple would probably like to settle in.

            “Yeah.  I’ll see you around.  Drop by sometime tomorrow and I’ll make some tea or something for you.  I’m sure there’s a lot to get to know around here,” Holly answered as the impromptu hallway meeting finished up.  The person or people in 1130 across the hall and 1131 next door didn’t seem quite so eager to be friendly, so she took the opportunity to get settled in in some well-deserved peace.

            “Fuckin’ weird having to meet someone as a pigeon,” Ross muttered.

            “Hush, you.  Get used to it until I find an android mechanic and get some credit.  By the way, we’re not telling everyone what we told him unless we know they’re trustworthy or would find out anyway, so if we’re in public, you best be ready to pull out the AI act.”

            Ross grumbled but didn’t complain aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People are meeting! Just as planned. I imagine Ross really is sick as hell of hearing the dead husband bit after having to practice the BITCH interview for so long.
> 
> Mark is totally the kind of guy to space out because he's reading about something interesting he heard about in a conversation, not to mention the neighbor who is just too nice to hate.
> 
> We are now up to date with what is posted on Tumblr, so this fic will be posted as I write it.


	12. An Old School Dinosaur Laser Fight

2015, Alternate Timeline: Somewhere in Space

            Barry piloted the ship around, pondering and researching the best plan of action.  The ship’s AI wasn’t particularly loyal to its captain, but he had a suspicion that Arin had not, in fact, gotten himself eaten, but rather gotten himself into something so wild and fucked up that someone should consider investigating it.

            “Northern Star Patrol: We Patrol Everywhere!” an ad read as he surfed the listings of mercenary and patrol fleets.  Their prices were reasonable and he saw good reviews of their services, especially since they had decided “Blow Shit Up!” wasn’t as good as a model as it could be.  Diplomacy with the threat of a lot worse seemed to guarantee results, so he decided to funnel some of Arin’s credits into the Patrol with a message regarding the trap on Theropodus.

            A message came into his inbox marked from a man known as Admiral Douglass: “Here’s a fun challenge.  Come to the NSP base in Attitude City and we’ll talk this over.  One of our top soldiers seems very interested.  His only criteria is that he wants to use lasers.”

            Barry marked Douglass and the NSP down on his “to research” list that he kept to make sure he knew the safe routes through the various and sundry galaxies Arin sent him through.  He plotted a course for the Attitude City space station, and docked.  A NSP Seaman was there to escort passengers, but Barry activated an exterior speaker.  “I’m a sentient AI in an unmanned craft.  Please connect me to the Admiral.”

            The Seaman looked at the ship, puzzled, but he requested clearance and, upon noting the serial number of the ship, Admiral Douglass allowed a call through.  “You’re fucking with me.  A ship?”

            “Sentient AI, thank you very much.  Call me Barry.  It’s a lot harder to manifest myself outside of the ship, though.  My captain is on Theropodus, 3rd Quadrant, status unknown, and I suspect foul play,” Barry explained, “But some raptor dude hacked me, which is really hard to do to a sentient AI, grabbed him, and knocked him out.  That’s not something we’ve ever encountered on one of his missions.”

            “I think I know the guy to help, as I said.  Important question, though, is your captain a woman?”

            “No…”

            “Good, then he’s not going to try to seduce the captain.  He’s a good soldier, great to have in combat and diplomacy, but he thinks with his dick a lot.  I’ll send him down to the dock station.  You have the right to call for backup, but you probably won’t need it.  Look for Rear Admiral Avidan.  I promise, you’ll have a hard time missing him.” The Admiral hung up and called his second-in-command.

            “Yeah?” Dan asked, straightening his uniform a bit and trying with little success to wrangle his messy hair into something presentable as he approached his Admiral.

            “Avidan, yesterday I asked you if you were ready for another assignment after your day off on Koga.  You said yes.  Are you still down?  Some raptors are causing shit again.”

            “Dinosaurs?  Hell fucking yes, Jack!” Dan blurted out.

            “You’re damn lucky you’ve been here long enough that I don’t care if you’re formal to me behind closed doors, Dan.  Call for backup if you need it.  Your usual weapons should be fine.  Go to the unmanned ship on the dock and board.  The AI is the client.  Yes, unusual, but he’s sentient.  I don’t know what he hopes to gain from this, but it does seem to be a bad scene,” Jack briefed

            “Thanks, Jack.  I’m out of here,” Dan answered, grabbing his usual lightweight, high-power laser arsenal and his trusty shield.  He left, singing, “Oh yeah, oh yeah, it’s an old school dinosaur laser fight!” under his breath.

            At the dock, Barry had his scanners and cameras on the exterior of the ship until he noticed a man with a drastically different insignia on his uniform.  Over the typical red six-pointed star with a white background, there were smaller stars instead of bars.  Barry didn’t know every rank of the NSP, but he had a feeling this was the aforementioned Rear Admiral Avidan.  The Rear Admiral was a lot taller and lankier than the ship had envisioned a talented diplomat and soldier to be, but if the commander of the NSP had faith in him, it had better be worth Arin’s credits.

            “Are you the Rear Admiral?” Barry projected over the speakers, beginning the process of unhatching the airlock.

            “Yeah, you must be the client.  Permission to board?”

            “Granted.  Come on in and get comfortable.  We’ve got a ride ahead of us, and while we’re on the way, I’ll brief you,” Barry invited as the door hissed open.

            Dan boarded the ship, eyeing the nice accommodations inside the cabin.  “Nice.  It’s not often our Patrol gets jobs from AIs, much less basically flying houses.  Rear Admiral Avidan of the Northern Star Patrol, at your service.”

            “Barry.  Technically a Kernel Repositioning Automatic Medium for Electrical Response.  So… Barry KRAMER, if you need a full name.  Ship’s AI of the Starbomb,” Barry introduced himself.

            “Nah, Barry’s fine.  Hell, if you want to just call me Dan or Danny, that’s fine with me.  After all the formalities are done, I’m not big on keeping things too rigorously military,” Dan explained, spreading out on a couch in the common area of the Starbomb.  “So Jack—erm, Admiral Douglass—tells me you have a captain on Theropodus and those lizards have some tech they really shouldn’t?”

            “Pretty much.  I don’t know what happened exactly, but signs of life for my captain, Arin, haven’t vanished from the planet.  He’s not gotten himself killed, but shit got weird.  I’m not super loyal to him, but it’s really hard to hack a sentient AI as much as they did.  Something’s up.”

            Dan took some notes, humming the same tune about dinosaur laser fights quietly as he did, and Barry reset the navigation back to Theropodus.  “Can you do light space travel?  I can’t get too close without getting tractored and hacked again, and this would be pretty shitty if you got stuck too.”     

            “Yeah, man, we have some of the best tech we can afford at the NSP.  I’ll make it.  This shield strapped to my back is a lot more useful than it looks and I’ve been through a lot more shit than it looks like.  Only five people out of thousands I’ve met since enlisting have almost killed me,” Dan boasted.

            The rest of the flight was fairly uneventful, as Barry just piloted the ship while working on his “to research” list and Dan maintained his weapons and battle strategies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to cut to a perspective shift a bit early because the next arc on Phobos is going to be pretty long. This is a bit fluffy, but I wanted to set up another meeting, catch up on Barry, and also have a damn good reason to make a Dinosaur Laser Fight reference. Also, acronyms are fun, even though I'm pretty sure anyone who's super into computing will realize that the acronym for KRAMER makes NO SENSE AT ALL.
> 
> NSP ranks are pretty heavily based on the Navy due to the nature of the Patrol, not to mention that aside from Dan's high status, making him anything other than a Rear Admiral seems to be doing him a disservice for comedic potential. By the way, I know that previously in the fic, Brian referred to him as Danny Sexbang. That's a nickname, much like it's a stage name in reality. He enlisted under his real name.
> 
> The Admiral is Jack Douglass of Jacksfilms, for those who do not follow his channel. After seeing that he worked on Cookies!, I had to make him a Patrolman.


	13. A Late-Night Proposition

Theropodus, Third Quadrant: Residential Monitored Quarters

            It dawned on Arin that he could only feel the changes that his captors had made to him, but he had not yet gotten a good look at himself.  He approached the mirror in the suite that Larry had ordered to be cleared for him and took a good look.

            So, much like the raptor-esque aliens, he still had his hair, and nothing had happened to that either, since the dyed streak of blonde still remained on the right of his face.  He hadn’t gone full Voldemort and lost his nose, though he also realized that his senses seemed sharper somehow.  His eyes, on the other hand, were a bit more of a noticeable change.  The irises of his eyes had turned amber, took up much more of the noticeable space in his eyes, and had vertical, catlike slits for pupils, which seemed to make him a bit more sensitive to light, though he couldn’t confirm this in the quarters.

            Arin forced a grin and noticed the biggest change: his teeth were drawn into razor-sharp rows of pointed, carnivorous fangs.  He absently picked at a chunk of the raw animal he had devoured in his incredible post-metamorphic hunger with his much sharper claws.  They seemed thicker than human nails, and a survey of his feet noted the presence of short but still sharp talons.  His skin had blotches of olive green scales in seemingly random patterns, and even where it wasn’t scaly, it felt perceptibly thicker.

            After pushing himself to avoid thinking about it for a long time, Arin finally acknowledged the fully-scaled raptor tail extending from his spine.  It twitched slightly in time with his annoyance at the presence of a new appendage.  “Great, just fuckin’ great.  I’m not one of them, I’m not human, and they expect me to be some kind of fuckin’ weapon.  I’m a fuckin’ animator and captain, not a fuckin’ human weapon.”

            He stretched out, wincing at the aches that still remained, persistent and even more irritating, after his changes.  This was his life now, whether he liked it or not, and fighting it would only bring him pain.  At least most of his connections off-world were pretty much forgotten, and Barry?  Well, Barry was a smart AI.  He’d find himself a new owner for the ship somewhere with a captain who wasn’t a fucking idiot, or else he’d upload his consciousness into a body and be a free AI.

            Groaning and popping a crick in his lower back above his tail, Arin lowered himself onto what he could only describe as a padded brick of concrete pretending to be a mattress and tried to rest.  Several times throughout the night he awoke, thrashing at the luckily very sturdy mattress and sweaty from nightmares.  It was an odd thought, considering he thought reptiles were cold blooded, but he guessed not everything about this species was reptilian, or perhaps it was just a holdover from his human days.  One of these times, he had a scaled hand clapped to his mouth.

            “Shhhhh, don’t say anything!” the intruder whispered, holding Arin’s mouth closed with a decent bit of force.

            A low growl forced itself from Arin’s throat, and something primal within him snapped.  Without even realizing what fighting moves he was executing, the intruder was on the floor, pinned, with his neck right under Arin’s jaw.  “Give me one good reason not to kill you right here, you fucking prick,” he warned, his eyes adjusting to the low light enough to recognize Kevin as his captive.  “You did this to me, you just fucking let this happen, and they said it was YOUR project?  You have some fuckin’ nerve waking me up like this alone.”

            “Easy, easy.  Let my throat go and I’ll explain,” Kevin choked out, refusing to make eye contact and lowering his tail as low as it could go, trying to show Arin his submission before he was an ex-Kevin.

            Arin noticed the rather unusual body language from someone who had a clear upper hand on him and relaxed his grip slightly.  “One fuckin’ false move or lie and they will be planning your funeral,” he warned, in no mood to be merciful to the one who ruined his life and then broke his beauty sleep.

            “They called it my project because I’m a programmer.  There’s a whole crew who made the calculations and the changing process, but I just made the program they plugged everything into.  I got this job through sheer dumb fucking luck, okay?  I’m not some gene scientist.  I write the programs, but I also am young enough that they thought I’d get ‘good experience’ from being the one to change this.  My boss is a colossal douche, I don’t like this shit, and what happened to you is… unfortunate,” Kevin sighed.

            “Un-fucking-fortunate,” Arin scoffed, eyeing Kevin suspiciously, “You got that right.  But why are we having some clichéd movie bullshit where you come in and explain everything?  Do you want to make me feel safe only for you and your dickhole boss to screw me over again?  No way.”

            “No, no, um… shit.  I don’t know how to tell you this, shit…” Kevin stammered.  “Just do what Larry says for a bit, I know it sucks, but I am going to watch out for you, okay?  Believe me or not, but don’t start more shit.  You’re still getting used to your new senses and instincts, and I know it’s my fucking fault, but just… make my job easy—“

            “Make it EASY?  You want me to make your job easy so you can get some promotion and be the same kind of dickhead your boss is?  FUCK YOU,” Arin interrupted, poising to strike again.

            “—Will you shut the fuck up?  Make my job easy so I can fucking help you get out of here, you ass!” Kevin snapped, raising his voice for the first time since arriving.

            Arin paused, slicking his two-toned hair out of his face as he slowly released Kevin.  “I don’t know if I believe you, but I don’t know if I have much choice.  Even if you fuck me over, I’m still in the same mess.”

            “Thank you for being reasonable!  You had that ship, right?  And the AI?”

            “Yeah, though I think Barry took that ship way far away.  Not like he’d keep some dick captain around.”

            “It’s… actually back in scanner range.  Not close enough for anything to happen yet, but there are signs of non-artificial life in it as well.  Something’s coming for you.  I’m here,” Kevin paused to take a breath and steel his nerves, “to desert.  Now Larry will make you fight.  I had to code that into the program.  I feel dirty for it.  But I’m going to help you get out of here.  It’s going to cost you.”

            “What’s the catch?  You’re going to make me fight for you?”

            “No, you take me with you.  I want to join your crew.  I just need to get off of this shithole planet!  I’ve never had anything great happen here.  At least on your ship I can go where I want.  You clearly have enough space to house me until then.  That’s my deal.  If I fail, we both stay.  If I win, we both get out of here. We’re both screwed if I’m lying, and you’re going to be forced to be a living weapon if you stay.  Deal?”

            Arin sat in silence, considering the younger raptor’s proposition. “I’ll do it.  But if you’re lying, I will personally kill you.  I don’t trust you, but I don’t have a choice right now.  You’re right, I’m fucked if I don’t leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long to put out! I recently started a new job, and that took a lot of time and energy to get going. But I'm doing what I love now, so I can deal with it.
> 
> I have the framework of how the whole crew comes together planned out now, so hopefully this doesn't take as long between chapters.


	14. Phaser Definitely Not Set to Thrust

Gravity Field of Theropodus, 3 days later

            After a long ride, Dan stretched his lanky body off the couch in the common area of the Starbomb.  “Barry, we’re close, right?”

            Barry projected a map of the galaxy surrounding their location on the nearest screen.  “Yeah, we are.  Do you have your plan?”

            “You bet, man.  I’m so ready for this shit.  It’s been so long since I had a search and rescue mission like this, and I get to fire lasers at dinosaurs?  Do you realize how many childhood dreams this achieves?”

            “Well, considering I’m an artificial intelligence and didn’t have a childhood, no, but I’m glad to hear you’re going to take this seriously.  I mean yeah, Arin was a dumbass to get caught, but some weird shit happened here.  Let’s get the captain back,” Barry replied.

            “Right, right, sorry.  I got excited, and I’m not used to just having an AI for company, even though you’re sentient and pretty cool.”

            “It’s fine.  Go get ready.  We’re a few astronomical units from the closest I can get to the planet.  I have your biological signature loaded into the tractor if you send the distress signal.  And Dan?  Thanks.  I expected some hardass from the NSP, but you’re good company.  I trust you’ll make things work.”

            “I think that’s the nicest thing a ship’s AI has ever said to me.  Normally it’s more like, ‘Dan, stop fucking in there! I don’t care how hot the alien lady is!’” Dan chuckled.

            Barry returned the laugh and cut the engines.  This was a few miles from where he was hacked, so he wasn’t about to let himself get hacked again.  That was a gross, violating feeling for any computer.  “We’re here.  I have everything ready.  I know you do,” he noted, recognizing the gear that would ensure the soldier’s safe landing, “So there’s no reason to waste time.  It’s a giant tri-color ship, so it’s not like they haven’t already noticed the Starbomb.  Go… and come back safe.”

            “Roger.  I’ll be back before you can say ‘peppermint creams,” Dan acknowledged, stowing his gear, turning on the thrusters on his boots, and putting his oxygen mask on.  His armor was surprisingly high-tech for something so remarkably human, so he had no reason to doubt it.  He opened up the airlock, waited for the slow depressurization, and activated the thrust to go towards the surface.

            The air rushing towards him was exhilarating, and the pressure and heat were dealt with by a combination of the uniform, his shield, and a basic forcefield.  Dan knew this sort of jump was extremely dangerous, and it would have been a lot safer to arrange a transport, but the thrill of a real mission and the knowledge this would look particularly alluring to any raptor women spurred him on.  He descended quickly, and about a mile up from the ground rushing towards him, he slowed the thrust, quickly repositioned his shield, and aimed his body so that the upward thrust from his boots would slow his descent.

            Finally, heart racing, Dan folded and put away his mask, let out a whoop, and let the last of his momentum push him forward, riding his shield like a crazy version of a snowboard onto the deserts of Theropodus.  “Yeah, baby!  That was freakin’ AWESOME!” Dan cheered, tending to his gear and strapping his shield back onto his back.  He had to give credit to the weapons department of the Patrol, those things were versatile and spreading the impact made things so simple.  He began the trek toward the giant complex where the captain of the Starbomb was last seen, humming a jaunty tune under his breath the whole way.

Theropodan Training Grounds

            “Do you call that a slash?  Hanson, that won’t even work on a horde of bunnies.  Get yourself together!” Larry shouted, despite the pile of tattered training dummies in desperate need of repair.

            “It shredded!  What else can I do?  Vaporize it with my bare hands?  I may be awesome, but I’m not that good,” Arin defended.

            Honestly, Larry had expected an answer to all his prayers, but instead he had someone who was only maybe 10% better than a basic Theropodan, on par with the best of the fighters but not a miracle worker.  His better human senses helped sharpen his instincts, and the senses Arin had gotten from the treatment enhanced his human abilities, but even so, there was no way the DINO would have any chance of beating the combined forces of any other fighting force.  The grant from the Royal Attack Platoon of Theropodan Official Ranks would be for nothing.  There was no super soldier.  There was only Arin.  He sighed.  “Again.  I know you can wield weapons as a space captain.  Make yourself a weapon.”

            Arin growled in frustration, tail whipping at his ankles like a pissed-off cat’s.  “Fine,” he grumbled, launching himself at yet another dummy and opening what would have been a fatal gut wound in a human.  Before he could ask whether that would be good enough, a tall, slender man with wild hair in a militaristic uniform burst into the room, phaser pointed at the training crew, and Arin could see a few guards passed out in the hall behind him.  He didn’t think that phaser was just set to thrust.

            “Everybody shut up!  I have a few questions!” the intruder shouted by way of introduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, first split-perspective chapter because both sections were too short for individual chapters. Even so, this is pretty short. Sorry!
> 
> I am particularly proud of my acronyms and NSP references here. Anyway, the plot thickens!


	15. Person Number Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I tried not to be excessively graphic with the violence here, but there is some blood and some violence. Proceed with caution.

            All eyes in the room and all weapons in the room were drawn at the interruption.  “State your business,” Larry demanded, a threatening growl growing in his throat.

            “I’m looking for Captain Arin Hanson of the Starbomb.  My current contractor has sent me to get him back.  I don’t plan to fail.  Where is he?”

            Arin had no idea how to respond to this.  Who would contract someone, much less this oddly threatening man, to bring him back?  Most of his contacts back on Earth were scattered, he hadn’t earned any favors from former jobs, and Barry was supposed to leave.  Supposed to… Barry used Arin’s credits for this, too, he bet.  Leave it to him to get into such a situation to need to pay for his own rescue mission.  “That’s me.  Make your life easier and leave now, man.  I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be able to come with you.”

            Of all the beings in the room, Dan had not expected Captain Hanson to be one of the raptorlike aliens.  He supposed that was where the alias of Egoraptor came from.  “Listen, man, my contract was to bring you back.  So come with me and don’t complain.  I’m just itching for a dinosaur laser fight, and you’re dinosaur enough to face at least a stun beam.”

            “You don’t understand, intruder.  He won’t be able to come with you because he will fight to stay here,” Larry warned, pulling out a remote device not unlike a phone, but with a far more complicated interface.  He would quite literally have Kevin’s tail if the programs weren’t as he ordered.

            “Cut the intruder bullshit.  My name is Rear Admiral Avidan of the Northern Star Patrol, and I will fight just as hard to finish my damn mission!”  Dan aimed his laser at Larry’s device, expecting it to be a weapon to disarm.

            With that, Larry pushed a button on the device, and Arin’s posture stiffened immediately.  Kevin looked on from his perch across the training room, praying that he mistyped some line of code or something.  He expected this, but that didn’t make it much easier to handle.

            In Arin’s mind, something snapped.  He was suddenly violently outraged at the Rear Admiral with the wild hair for interrupting his training for the good of the RAPTOR organization.  His eyes narrowed, and instinctively, he lowered into fighting stances he barely knew minutes before.  He was literally seeing everything with a red tinge on the edges of his vision from sheer wrath.  “I said I’m not fucking going, so pack your lasers and ego and get out of here before I kill you!”

            As Dan began to formulate a new plan, Arin lunged, tail striking like a bullwhip at his legs while he aimed for any vital organs he could fine.  “Okay, new plan, improvise,” Dan muttered, reaching for the shield so he could stop the scaly bundle of rage fixed on attacking him.  This was almost as hard as a run in with Kogans with full combat body mods in effect, and Dan had a brief flashback to the fifth person ever to nearly kill him in eight years of service to the Patrol.  This berserk raptor-man would almost be a match for Ninja Brian, he realized with a shudder.

            The other Theropodans using the room to train also advanced, weapons and claws ready, but none seemed quite so predatory as Arin, who narrowly missed Dan as he ducked out of the way and turned on his feet to face him again.  Dan cursed that this was not a wanted dead or alive sort of mission, as that might make things a bit easier.  But no, on Dan’s stay in transit on the Starbomb, Barry had made it quite clear that he did not want blood on his virtual hands.

            As he tried to dance around the blows of the angry raptor captain, Dan took some calculated shots at any raptors who were aiming weapons or advancing on him, administering a nonlethal but very painful laser blast to any he could catch with the phaser, enough to knock them out from pain.

            Meanwhile, each ally who fell on Arin’s side enraged him further, as did the agile mercenary’s dodges and plans.  His vision was practically tunneling on the man who posed a threat to his forces, his planet, the race he swore to be a weapon for.  “You fucked up,” Arin growled, “You should have run, but now you’re not getting those credits.  You’re going to be my next meal before you make it back to any ship.  You messed with Captain Arin Hanson, living fucking weapon.”

            Larry looked on in glee, noting the sudden loyalty and ferocity of the berserk mode.  Kevin would surely have a future with later DINO projects if this kept up, he decided, making notes and supervising his pet project instead of aiding the fight.  Kevin stood up from his detached perch and approached Larry.  “I have some other functions I can use if you give me that,” he offered, “And then Arin will win for sure.”

            Larry hurriedly offered the device to his protégé, eager to see what fresh torment his weapon could dish out.  Kevin fiddled with the device, actively doing nothing while looking like he was programming further, and Larry kept his gaze fixed on Arin, who slowly seemed to be gaining the upper hand.

            “Living fucking weapon, huh?  And you think being a Rear Admiral makes me some meal to you?  You’re not even worth saving, you useless excuse for a ship’s captain,” Dan spat.

            “Ship’s captain?  I’m not fighting for a damn ship,” Arin taunted back, lashing at Dan’s shield, which had finally made an appearance, and hitting it just right to dislodge Dan’s grip.

            This was bad.  Dan hastily stopped focusing on picking off other threats and aimed his phaser right at the furious captain.  He squeezed the trigger, saw the beam hit Arin, and winced as Arin let out a blood-curdling screech.

            The pain felt like a scratch compared to the change Arin recently went through, but it focused his rage into one objective: kill the one who hurt him.  He lunged yet again at the Rear Admiral, fully knocking the shield out of his hands, and biting deep into the man’s shoulder while raking his claws anywhere he could find.  Blood poured from Dan’s wounds, and he crumpled to the floor of the training room as he attempted to staunch the flow.  He was quickly going into shock. Despite that, Arin continued to claw, bite, and whip the man with his tail, pain burning through his muscles that he wanted to give back to the man who inflicted it.

            Arin Hanson did not fall to the pain of the phaser, and with that, he had cemented himself as person number six to almost kill Rear Admiral Leigh Daniel Avidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shifting perspectives during a battle scene is not the easiest thing to write, so I hope I did it some justice.
> 
> Yes, after all that fighting, blood loss is a reasonably realistic expectation of one of the greatest dangers.
> 
> Also, I know, I'm evil with cliffhangers.


	16. Emergency Warp

            Kevin had not intended to leave Arin in his berserk mode as long as he did, despite not wanting to arouse suspicion.  As he saw the crippling blows Arin continued to rain down on the Rear Admiral, he quickly grabbed a nearby weapon, and while Larry wrung his hands in glee at the success of his project, dealt a heavy blow to the head, enough to stun him.  Kevin deactivated the berserk loyalty mode on the device, then pocketed it and hurried over to the bloody scene.

            Just as quickly as he had broken into this rage, it ended for Arin, and he found himself panting, heaving, achy, and covered in blood.  His mouth tasted of iron, as though he had been licking a pole, and he realized that he had done all of this.  The RAPTOR-issued uniform clung to him in places as he realized that he had taken a few hits, but since it seemed Barry definitely didn’t want him dead, Arin was definitely in the best shape.             

            “I’m so sorry,” Arin choked out, trying to help Dan slow the bleeding.

            “Oh, now you’re ready to play nice?” Dan groaned.

            “It was my fault,” Kevin cut in.  “I had to program that mode in.  He didn’t want to fight.  He’s been moping around about being abducted for days.”

            That was enough to realize that Arin was not going to lure him aboard a death ship.  “Call Barry.  Use my comm,” Dan ordered before he passed out.

            Kevin rummaged through Dan’s pockets until he found a comm.  It was dented and bloodied, but it flickered on with no problem.  A shortcut on it read “emergency warp.”

            Arin took the comm from Kevin as he searched for the call option.  “It’s the warp.  It’s gotta be.  When things don’t go so fucking wrong as they did when you all took me, Barry always makes me put an emergency shortcut on my comm.”  He tentatively pushed the icon on the screen.

            “Dan?  I’ll get the warp ready,” Barry’s voice came over the communicator.

            “Barry, this is Arin.  Prepare a warp for Dan, me, and a third party.  Don’t ask questions.  Dan needs medical attention, the third party can help.  Warp me to my room, please.”

            “Got it,” Barry answered, aiming the tractor warp from the atmosphere to the complex that started this whole mess and activating it.

            The air around them seemed to dissolve, and suddenly Dan was bleeding on Arin’s floor.  Luckily he hadn’t decked the whole thing out in carpet yet, so he could clean that.  Arin ripped his issued uniform off and found the most concealing outfit he owned that would cover his tail too.  He found a robe he used to conceal his identity for meetings to discuss less savory jobs and pulled it on, wiping as much blood as possible onto the useless uniform.

            “What’s with the getup?” Kevin asked.

            “I’m not ready for Barry to see me like this.  I’m not even ready to see me like this after today.  Now help me get Dan to a common area so we can dress the wounds.  I’m not a medic, and I sure as hell can’t fix everything, but I have a medkit,” Arin explained, lifting the thin soldier gently and carrying him to the ship’s common area.  Kevin hurried behind Arin with a towel, which he lay down over the couch.

            “Whoa, whoa, whoa, why is the guy who was bait in our ship again, Arin?” Barry accused as he noted the scene.  Out of general respect, he tried not to watch anyone’s living quarters, but the appearance of Kevin in his ship was unexpected and unwanted.

            “Long story, now look up blood loss and let me try to fix this mess!  Shit went sour down there.  You’ll know eventually.  Let’s just say they made a monster,” Arin ordered bitterly.

            “Okay, okay, if you said to let him on our ship, I’m not going to fight it.  Stop the blood loss, put a blanket over him, and put his feet up.  You know he could die, right?” Barry asked, looking into ship’s medical databases he had pre-installed as a safety precaution even before he became sentient in the Singularity.

            Arin and Kevin bustled to follow directions. “I know, Barry, but does it look like I can just summon a medic right now?  I’m not in the best shape myself, that’s why everything is covered right now.  I didn’t have time to fully clean myself off,” Arin lied, applying as much healing ointment as he could onto the bite marks, claw marks, and tail welts.  Medical science had improved a lot, but there was no mistaking that Dan would need to see a medical professional soon enough.

            “I was wondering about that.  Now try to keep him warm and I will plot a course for the nearest place with a reputable medical corps,” Barry ordered.

            “What should I do now?” Kevin asked.

            “Keep an eye on him, make sure he’s still breathing, and if he wakes up, don’t let him kill anyone,” Arin dictated.  “And when I come back, find an open room for yourself and get comfortable.”

            “Arin, a word?” Barry responded icily.

            “You can project into my quarters.  I’m going to go clean up now.”

            Arin hurried off to his quarters, suddenly very conscious of just how much of his face was shadowed by this robe.  As soon as the door slid shut behind him, Arin found himself face to face with a holographic projection of his ship’s AI.  Barry scowled at his captain as he sized him up.

            “You’ve done some crazy shit since you got me, but really, Arin?  You want this guy to live here?  I’m not going to spend my time constantly watching my back and yours because despite being an ass you’re too nice, man.  And what’s with the hiding?  You haven’t really cared what anyone thought of your looks outside of a job before.  I know you asked to warp to your quarters so you could change clothes,” Barry laid into Arin.

            “I’m not going to entertain questions about myself right now.  I’m not ready to even process what happened for my own good right now.  As for Kevin, he saved my ass down there.  He worked for the biggest asshole I’ve ever met and decided enough was enough.  He stopped that man—Dan—from dying.  I don’t know if I trust him entirely, but I don’t not trust him,” Arin answered, “Now if I hear anything else against this arrangement, I swear to god I am going to change your language settings to Russian so I don’t have to listen to you complain.”

            “You may be my captain, but I am not going to stand around and take your abuse.  You’re being an ass, and not in the funny way like usual.”

            “Barry, I told you they made a monster down there.  I had to see firsthand what that monster did to the man you sent to rescue me.  I’m more than a LITTLE FUCKING OVERWHELMED.  The least you could do is your goddamn job,” Arin demanded.

            “All right, all right, we’ll save this for another time.  If I see Kevin do anything suspicious, he’s out, though,” Barry warned.

            “Fine, fine.  Now, sorry, but I need to get cleaned up.  I got a bit bloody down there,” Arin excused himself.  Barry took the hint and deactivated the holographic surveillance of the room for privacy, but he pondered what could have gone so wrong as to make Arin’s usually open book close so tightly.  Maybe it was a function of close quarters, but if anything, Barry rarely got Arin to shut up about things, and now he wouldn’t take the same from his AI.  Not to mention the odd biological reading Barry got when he warped them... Barry resolved to figure all of this out in due time once they got Dan medical attention.

            Arin entered the bathroom in his quarters, pulled off his robe, and surveyed the true monster of the Theropodus situation for the first time.  His eyes no longer burned with rage, but his arms were caked with blood, it was under his claws, which miraculously Barry had failed to notice, and from his chin to just under his neck, where the collar of the uniform had sat, there was blood from the nasty shoulder bite Arin had left.  Down his body were occasional bruises mixed with the scaly patches.  All in all, Arin looked like hell.  He averted his eyes from the mirror he used to assess the rest of the damage and dragged himself to the shower.  Now that the adrenaline was dying down, he felt the ache left by the pain setting on the phaser, the burn of several days of heavy training, and physical and mental exhaustion.

            It was going to take a lot more than a long scrub in the shower to make him feel clean again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this last night, but I feel like it's ready to post.
> 
> Also, oops, I made Barry and Arin's argument sound like a lovers' quarrel. I'm not even a shipper, that's just kind of how it came out.


	17. Don't You Want to Know?

Approximately a Month Later, Phobos Housing Quarters #1127 (Apartment of Mark Fischbach)

            It had become a near-nightly ritual over the past month since Holly and Ross had arrived on Phobos to have some sort of meeting at Mark’s over sodas, coffees, and the occasional alcoholic beverage.  Over time, they had met a motley assortment of scientists, analysts, and colonial crew, and the common theme seemed to be that they had some sort of knowledge to help Ross find an android chassis and that Mark got along well with them—although knowing Mark, it was likely harder to find someone who he did not get along well with.  Tonight’s meeting was particularly lively due to the particularly cheerful, slightly tipsy, and very loud Irishman in the mix.

            As the meeting had started, Holly resigned herself to being there for quite a while.  Although she had no problems with the current crew, after a long day of light android repairs, she perhaps would have preferred the quieter company of Jared, the professional—well, she had no idea what he was a professional at, he just came off as a professional—instead of the immediate riffing and guffawing that happened whenever Ross, Mark, and Sean were in the same room.  It would be several hours before she could convince Ross to leave and stop joking around with the crew in the room, although thankfully he currently could not join the drinking fun.  Something told her if Ross had started drinking with them, she would never sleep even if she retreated next door.

            “So as I was sayin’, I know a guy who could help you out, Ross,” Sean continued, taking a hearty drink of his beer and gesturing at his bionic left eye, which constantly glowed a faint neon green, “He isn’t exactly the most legal guy in the solar system, but he has great parts and all you have to say is that Jack sent ya.”

            “Wait, wait, who is Jack again?  Shouldn’t I meet him before I name drop someone?” Ross asked, already beginning to compile his list of desired modifications and parts again.

            “You’re lookin’ at him,” Sean crowed, “I didn’t want to use my real name in case anyone busted me, so to him, I’m Jack.”

            “He does do good work, but should you really already be flaunting your connections?” Mark interrupted.

            “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t even be here, Markimoo.  So I think you should stop complaining unless you want to get Ross over here the most boring mainstream parts available,” Sean warned.  “It’s not just my eye that’s a bit off the normal model, or do I need to go get ya the most boring steel arm I can find?”

            Mark immediately blanched, the ruddiness in his cheeks from a drink or two vanishing as he shot a death glare at his Irish friend.  His voice lowered as he threatened, “I trust you will shut your mouth about that if you want to come back here again.”

            “I’d even take something normal as long as it could be modified later.  Being a pigeon blows,” Ross commented.  “Though I wouldn’t mind some built in weapons…”

            “I told ya I know a guy!  I know the colony pay scales here.  You could afford a custom build as long as you can give him the specs.  He will finish it up for you and then all we need to do is the transfer.”

            “It never fails to amaze me how much random stuff you know,” Mark responded, color returning to his face now that the touchy subject had been dodged for that moment.

            “It’s my job to know things,” Sean countered immediately.  While officially, he was just one of the staff that coordinated new arrivals, housing, and general colony business, unofficially, he had a reputation as probably the least scary information dealer anyone had ever met.  Not long after meeting him, whether as Sean the Phobosian staffer or as Jack the information broker, almost everyone realized that whatever they told him would be remembered.  Some chose to tread lightly around him, while others immediately took it as an invitation to befriend the boisterous Irish expat.

            “Wait, he completes the build for you?  Don’t most people just ship the parts?” Holly cut in, her month of experience in the colony telling her that most androids and robotic parts came like old IKEA furniture, which is to say in the most efficient packaging, infuriatingly hard to build, and usually missing a few parts.

            “It’s kind of his thing.  He does the work for you so you’re not stuck with a ton of parts.  He’s good with the installations, too.  Even if it’s biological, the guy’s got associates who understand biological engineering too,” Sean explained, receiving a slight warning from Mark to explain no further.

            Of course, Ross only seemed to be oblivious when it was convenient to him, because he noticed his neighbor’s odd behaviors.  “Mark, why do you keep trying to get him to shut up?  Is there something we should know?”

            If looks could kill, Ross would be one dead bird.  “The downside,” Mark growled, “of becoming friends with an information broker is that he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut!”

            “I have kept it quiet for two whole years, Mark, even when I had to explain my eye, so excuse me for halfway breaching the subject in front of one of the few people who might actually get where you’re coming from!” Sean snapped.

            “Should we go?  We should go,” Holly interrupted, grabbing Ross despite his struggles and giving him a warning look not to interfere.

            “Nah, I think it’s time Mark here shoves a sock in it, drops his goddamn pride, and lets me let you in on a little secret!” Sean continued, glaring with both normal human and glowing green eye at the seething cyborg across the room.        

            “I swear to god I will kill you,” Mark threatened.

            “You couldn’t kill a butterfly,” Sean taunted back.

            “That’s because they’re beautiful and majestic, UNLIKE YOU.”

            “Yeah, lovely to see you all, but we have to go,” Holly tried again, gathering the remainder of her belongings and preparing to leave the apartment.

            “No, no, stay.  Don’t you want to know how I got this eye and how Marky boy over there became a cyborg?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry that I'm not the most familiar with Jacksepticeye for this, but I fell in love with the idea of him being the guy who knows a guy for just about everything and for him to have a bright green bionic eye.
> 
> Hey look, exposition! Also touchy Mark is fun to write.
> 
> Yes, there will be a lot of minor YouTuber cameos or at least name drops here. We have ProJared here and I think it's not too hard to guess who the robot guy and his associates are. (Your guesses will be confirmed or denied in the next chapter or two)


	18. Unusual Requests

2013, Alternate Timeline, Phobos Colony Residential Supply Area

            “I’m looking for Sean McLoughlin?” Mark asked, hefting a toolbox nearly half his size into the supply area.

            “Ah, that’s me!  You’re here for that droid, right?” McLoughlin answered in an Irish lilt, sizing up this fresh face to the colony.  Granted, a good chunk of the colony seemed to be new since the restrictions on recreational space travel and emigration had finally relaxed a little after the Singularity last year.  Even Sean had barely made it out before the restrictions tightened up, but already he made it his business to know what was going on.

            “Yeah, my job for the day is to look at the defense android.  You said it was a bit weird right now in the work order, how so?” Mark asked, clutching the tablet he used with technical specs and work orders.

            “Well, these are only used in emergencies for when we have particularly nasty things we need to defend the colony from, so we keep them in storage most of the time, but when I ran the usual monthly safety diagnostic, this one right here isn’t registering its safety programs.  They said the engineering department could check it out.  You’re an engineer?  You look a little young.”

            “Yeah, that’s me, and I could say the same for you.  By the way, the name’s Mark Fischbach, nice to meet you, Mr. McLoughlin.”

            “Ugh, don’t call me that!  Sounds like my dad,” Sean chuckled, “Sean is fine, or Jack if you want to know some stuff.”

            “What do you mean stuff?”

            “I dabble in information.  It’s my business to know the goings-on of Phobos, since I keep an eye on the residential side.  Lots of science folks, but I learn a lot,” Sean explained casually.  “And no, I don’t want to know about some crazy physics project you’re doing, before you ask.”

            Mark deflated, obviously preparing to teach him something new.  “All right.  Well, then, shall we?  Can you boot the bot?  You have all the security keys.”

            “All right, Sammy, time to boot,” Sean said, tinkering with the defense droid as it whirred into life.

            “Sammy?” Mark asked, confused.

            “I name them so it’s easier to tell them apart.  This one is the Suppressive Armed Mechanism, so SAM.  I call him Sammy.  He’s a bit dangerous, so we needed to get this fixed immediately.”

            “Dangerous?  Why was this not on the work order?” Mark inquired suspiciously.

            “There was no place for it.  But yeah, Sammy boy over here is a really nasty little thing when he’s actively defending.  The mechanics who made him didn’t know what Phobos had to offer yet, so he’s armed to the teeth with light poisons, weapons, the works.  Enough to discourage a threat from coming back.  There’s a reason this guy isn’t out in the halls doing security scans,” Sean explained, still tinkering with the droid’s boot cycle.

            “’Dangerous’ isn’t an option on the work orders here?  That’s a problem,” Mark observed, pulling his basic tool belt out of the tool box.

            “That’s what I said, but hey, what can ya do?”

            SAM the android booted up, and Mark stepped in once the security codes were in place to prevent it from going into an attack mode.  He pulled a small cord out of his tool belt and connected it to the tablet in his hands and started a diagnostic exam on its programming.  “Neurotoxins?  Lasers?  Okay, Mr. Info Man, why is this guy some sort of torture weapon?”

            “Oh shit, this has been in my storeroom the whole time?  I knew it had some minor poisons and weapons, but I didn’t expect him to be some little psychopath’s arsenal.  SAM, boot down!  Now!” Sean demanded, hoping voice commands would kick in before the slight glitch turned deadly.

            “I thought you said you knew everything!” Mark complained.  SAM the android did not boot down.

            “I thought I did!  We’ve only had to run security checks, not go into him at length!  Some crazy paranoid mechanic must have either had a hard-on for death or some serious issues with what space can throw at us, damn.”  Sean cut in front of Mark to try to run the shutdown cycle manually since the voice commands were bugged.

            Suddenly, the screen of Mark’s tablet flickered and the android whirred and hummed.  “BOOT DOWN, SAM.  SHUT DOWN.  DEACTIVATE,” Sean tried, fiddling with the onboard commands on the android as it began to move.

            The voice commands continued to fail, so Sean backed away.  “Move, move, get out of here!   We can lock it up and get someone who can handle this dangerbot, but MOVE IT!”

            Mark hastily picked up his tools and Sean grabbed him by the toolbelt.  “I need this stuff!” he protested.

            “Not as much as you need to get out of here!”

            The bickering had bought the android too much time, though.  Despite the relatively organized storeroom, there wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver, and the android had begun to arm himself while the two men argued.  “Defense mode,” a synthesized voice announced.

            “No, not defense mode, get back, SAM!” Sean insisted, arming himself with a broom and jabbing the android while trying to make up the time he and Mark had spent arguing.

            “Defense mode,” the android repeated, arming a laser from its right arm.  It took aim as the men panicked, and fired a blast that missed by fractions of an inch.

            “Sean, this is my job, so you leave first!” Mark insisted, selecting a rather large hammer form his belt and arming himself.  “You want hammer time?” he asked the android, a dark grin forming on his face.

            “Threat detected.”

            “Way to go, YOU MADE IT WORSE!” Sean shouted.  The android aimed another laser blast, and it managed to miss Mark and hit Sean in the eye.  It wasn’t a heavy-penetration laser, rather a short-range laser meant to wound rather than kill, but it hurt like hell, blinded him, and his eye felt like it was on fire.  Sean ran, clutching his face and yowling in pain.

            “SHIT!  SEAN!” Mark shouted, concern rising for his companion.  He turned away from the android long enough to check on Sean, which proved to be a much worse idea than he had intended.

            “Threat detected.”  The android pointed its right arm at the back of Mark’s right arm and let loose another short-range blast, then pointed its left hand at his back and shot a poisoned dart right between the shoulder blades.

            “MARK!” Sean cried, grabbing and dragging the engineer out of the supply room and hurriedly slamming and locking the heavy door.  The android could wait.  “CALL A MEDIC!” he shouted loudly enough to wake the dead.  Thankfully, his loud voice could serve him well for once.  “NOW!”

            Within minutes, a pair of hefty bearded men appeared to respond.  “This doesn’t look good.”

            By this point, Mark had blacked out from pain and the dart, which Sean had pulled before nursing his own face again, and Sean wasn’t in the best state.  “What happened?” the taller of the two men asked, surveying the scene.

            “There’s a bloody fucking murder monster robot in that area no one knew about!  I got a shot to the eye, but fuck that, Mark was supposed to fix it and took a dart and a heavy close-range laser to the arm!” Sean babbled, near hysterical.

            “That’s bad,” the shorter dark-haired man responded.

            “No shit!” Sean interjected.  “I have the dart in case you can figure it out, but they sent someone who just got here to fix this and he’s gonna fuckin’ DIE because of me!”

            “Calm down, dude, it’ll be fine,” the taller of the two men consoled him, “Jirard and I know our stuff.  We got Kellie from bio to come to the medical area too.  It’s not every day we deal with murderbots, but we have a feeling we know exactly what this is.  We kicked Haywood out, but that nutbar’s stuff still comes out to play sometimes.”

            Ryan Haywood’s name seemed to be the one name no one particularly liked to mention, so of course, despite the pain, it stuck out in Sean’s mind.  That was a name he could rarely get information on, but he was the only man he knew of who was actually banished from the Earthen colonies after some unfortunate incidents.  Somehow a poison-spitting laser murderbot sounded about right for that reputation.

            “Yeah, man, just let Alex, Kellie, and I handle it.  You can walk, right?” the dark-haired man, who Sean now knew as Jirard, asked.

            “Yeah.  My depth perception is a bit fucked and I have a headache that could kill, but I can walk,” Sean replied sheepishly.  He wasn’t usually one to admit to any weaknesses, but this didn’t seem the time for bravado.

            “All right, let’s get the other guy then.  He’s gonna be a mess,” Alex directed, and together, the two men found a passible substitute for a stretcher in two rolling chairs and a table and rushed toward the medical bay with Sean in tow.

            “Leave it to Kellie?” Jirard asked Alex when they got there and a short brunette with her hair back and Pokemon earrings in came forward.

            “Yeah, Kellz mode will help this guy, I know it.  I’ll help out.  You deal with the guy with the eye before it goes septic.”

            “Kellz mode?” Sean asked curiously, choosing to ignore the suggestion that his eye would get infected.

            “Yeah, she seems to have the best luck under pressure.  No one knows why, but the guy’s gonna die without her luck and Alex’s skill.  Now let’s look at that eye.  It has to hurt like crazy.”

            Sean submitted himself to a barrage of tests and treatments, and finally Jirard announced, “Well, it’s fucked.  Thankfully, we have some crazy good medical treatments out there.  I can put a bionic eye in for you if you want.  Just say the word.”  He wound a set of bandages over the left side of Sean’s face to let it heal.

            “Yeah, that’d be cool.  Does it have to be normal colored?” Sean asked hopefully.

            “No, but it’s not common I get requests for something unusual like this.  You’re an interesting one.  Here’s a business card.  Call me once we’re done with Fischbach over there,” Jirard explained, passing a business card and a wink that said ‘this isn’t Phobos business.’

            Jirard scurried over to Alex and Kellie, who were busy trying to neutralize the poison, fix the laser blast, and generally not kill Mark.  He heard snatches of conversation as they argued about how to fix it, including things like “blind,” “muscle damage,” and “lose an arm.”

            “Sorry to bother you when you’re busy, but Jirard, about that card?  Without going into too much detail, I have some credits.  Do what you have to.  It’s my fault this happened,” Sean ordered somberly.

            “You sure, man?  This is going to be hefty,” Alex pressed.

            “I’m sure.  Best you can get.  Tell him it was from Jack.  I’ll be in touch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, long scene. Flashbacks like mad.
> 
> If you guessed the guy Sean knew was Jirard the Completionist and his associates were Alex, Kellie/PokeKellz, and (not shown but will make a cameo) Jimmy/Sunder, you were right. They do legit work, but they also have connections to some shady suppliers.
> 
> Also some Mad King action and a brief Darkiplier moment. Long story short, lots of cameos/references.
> 
> The next chapter should jump back to the present with the story finishing up. But yeah, this was pretty fun to write and I hope it didn't come off too rushed or forced.


	19. A Starbomb Status Update

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is going in an entirely different direction, and you all deserve an explanation. The chapter that comes here SHOULD be a continuation of the flashback story, only finished up from Mark's point of view in the modern timeline and working toward the ultimate goal of getting a body for Ross that isn't a pigeon robot.
> 
> However, as many of you know, the real life Mark is currently grieving after the sudden passing of Daniel Kyre. May he rest in peace. As I write this, it is barely a week after this happened. The potential risk of writing even a fictionalized real person fiction is that there are indeed real people involved. I don't want to write an angsty Mark chapter so soon after this happened for risk of trivializing his real grief over a real tragedy. I may or may not wait until the end of his hiatus, but doing this so soon seems highly disrespectful and there will be a delay in this chapter until I feel that it is decent to post it. I chose to write a sudden perspective shift to something that was going to happen a bit later to avoid this disrespect. I am sorry that this is abrupt, but this decision was one I thought about hard before I made it. The fact of the matter for me is that, for me, respect for the real people is way more important than my original plot outline.
> 
> I'm sorry that it feels so forced and that this chapter is a bit stagnant, but there is still some plot development here and it's still worth a read.

2015, Phobos Colony, Medical Bay (Meanwhile…)

            Dan laid awake, considering his options as the last few treatments finished up.  He had to give the now-reclusive crew of the Starbomb credit for knowing how not to kill him, even if they had to go way too far from where Dan knew the closest human-friendly planet was.  Granted, he could also give credit to the advanced medical care that had happened.

            How is it that over just 35 years he had watched unprecedented technological growth?  Since 2000 alone, recreational space travel happened, there were colonies on other planets and moons, and everything felt just as sci-fi as the old movies said things would be.  The Singularity was indeed a problem, but Dan only really cared about it because it had messed with people he cared about.  He left Earth for good five years prior to the chaos in 2012, so aside from a few cursory messages to his parents and sister that he had sent, it just wasn’t an issue.

            What was an issue was his next course of action.  His eight years he had signed up for after meeting the ragtag group of Earthen ex-pats that started the NSP was as good as over.  He could renew a contract or take an honorable discharge and avoid near-death experience number 7.  Even the diplomatic changes to the NSP that Admiral Douglass had made upon taking up the commanding role had not prevented situations from going sour.  He could almost hear Avi warning him that if he had to see him in a coffin, ‘eh, there’d be trouble!’  Then again, that didn’t stop him from fighting armies, governments, ninjas, dinosaurs, and the endless quest for some good lovers across space in the first place.  Why was it bothering him so much now?

            He would have to discuss it with the AI on the ship, who seemed to be the biggest voice of reason out of the whole crew, when he got back.  Inactivity had already driven Dan to stir-crazy reasoning, so what’s the worst waiting a few days could do?  According to the two men who handled the medical bay, it shouldn’t be too long before he was free to adventure wherever he pleased again.

Phobos Ship Docks (Meanwhile…)

            Kevin was having a field day with not being under the thumb of the worst boss in the history of workplace complaints, and of course he kept busy with freelance jobs coding on the ship’s networks.  So why couldn’t Arin bring himself to at least take these jobs while he was stuck on the stupid colony dock waiting for Dan to recover?

            “Fuck…” he muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling of his room again and running his hands through his now quite unkempt hair.  He had been in survival mode for the past month or so, coming out of the room in the robe only to make food, snap at Barry for asking why he stayed so reclusive, or use the restroom.

            He may have been nervous to go out of the ship under normal circumstances in case there were any repercussions for having left Earth illegally, but now that wouldn’t be a problem.  Hell, Kevin had free reign of any civilian areas, and unless anyone from outside Earth was openly hostile, the Earthen colonies were dropping isolationist policies gradually.  Every excuse Arin could make to not go resupply the ship with the bounty of resources he could buy with his credits could be countered easily, but proving the excuses to be stupid didn’t actually change anything.

            For the god knows how many-th time this month, he just stagnated on the bed and wallowed in self-pity over his new lot in life.

            That is, until a knock came on Arin’s door.  He had disabled any electronics Barry could use to interact with him not long after Dan’s condition had stabilized, but apparently he was going to use the robot body to get information.

            “Arin?  Can I come in?  I have to discuss the future of the ship,” Barry asked.

            Arin waited in silence, hoping Barry would assume he was asleep and leave him be.  The biometric scanners were off in his room, so this wouldn’t be too hard a sell.  And yet Barry still knocked on the door.          

            “Arin, I know you’re not sleeping in there.  You’re not a quiet sleeper these days,” Barry warned, persistently knocking on the door to the captain’s quarters.

            Shit, this was true.  Due in large part to nightmares and in small part to quiet snores, Arin had not been the quietest sleeper.  ‘Come on, Barry, get the hint,’ Arin willed.  But alas, still, the incessant knock.

            “Arin, I like to think I’m a pretty patient guy, but you’re being silly.  Open the door.”

            “Can this wait?” Arin finally asked.  He wasn’t going to sell sleeping any time soon, so it was time to dismiss Barry.

            “Like it’s waited this past month while we wait for Dan to get to this place and then for him to get the all-clear?”

            “Exactly.  Go away.”

            “Like I said, I’m a pretty patient guy, but after a month, I am running a bit thin on patience.  I’ve been patient with you.  I’ve been patient with Dan and Kevin saying that whatever happened on that mission was more your story to tell than anyone’s.  But if you stay this depressed, I don’t know what you’re going to do as captain.”  Barry was actively trying to push Arin’s buttons at this point.  At least when Arin was angry he was more likely to spit something out.

            “Depressed?  I’m not depressed, Barry.  Go away, please,” Arin insisted.

            “You’ve barely left your room in months, don’t take on jobs even doing stuff you used to do, and you’d wake any humans on the ship some nights with your screams.  Now you can talk to me or I can drag one of the Phobos colony’s psychoanalytic team to the ship, but I’m not going away.  I downloaded myself into this damn out of date robot body for this.  Open the door, Arin,” Barry countered.

            “You wouldn’t.  I’m not fucking depressed and you’re hearing shit or something.  I have a game and I keep dying a lot, that’s the screams.  And work is sparse,” Arin excused himself.

            “No, I doubt ‘AAAAAH, the pain, make the pain stop, everything hurts, oh jeezum,’ is you playing a game.  You’ve got some problems, dude.”

            Shit.  Arin had no idea he had become such a sleep-talker.  “Fine, god, if it gets you off my case, give me a few minutes and I’ll be out,” he conceded.  This was decidedly not going to be a fun talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but I wanted to make the next chapter a bit longer and more plot-heavy, so I decided not to post it as one huge part.
> 
> I needed to write the big explanation scene anyway, so it came a bit sooner. And it's a little obvious foreshadowing about Dan, but there will actually be a flashback chapter explaining why he left Earth so much earlier than the rest of the human cast and how he came upon the NSP.
> 
> Enjoy.


	20. A Well-Needed Talk

            After a very quick shower and clean-up because Barry did not need to see just how much Arin had let himself go in the past few days since his last shower, Arin donned the robe he had been using and left his room, sighing deeply.  This was it, this was going to be the moment when he got kicked off his own ship by vote of his new crewmember and the AI... all for being a monster.  Arin was prepared for the worst.

            Barry sat, still in the robot body for convenience’s sake, engrossed in some simulation or another on the couch in the living room area of the ship.  Arin shifted uneasily on his feet, ready to bolt back into his room.  It didn’t matter how confident he used to be or who he was, he was not ready for this.  The reality of his situation was not looking good.  He cleared his throat slightly to alert Barry to his presence.

            “The robe again?” Barry asked, unamused.

            “Yeah, what of it?” Arin challenged.

            “Well, I haven’t seen your face in almost a month and I am beginning to think some hooded cultist took over the captain role of this ship.  Care to prove me wrong?”

            “Have you even considered that’s what I want?  Not the cult thing, but not being seen?  I only made it really fucking obvious by locking myself away and not showing my face at all.”

            “Why, though?  You may be a behind the scenes kind of guy sometimes, but you’re never this… I don’t even know.  You’re not acting yourself, and the nightmares and… I don’t know, is it even worth keeping you as a captain?  I’m half afraid you’ll wreck the ship looking for some kind of trouble and I’ll have to go be some computing drone.  We’ve been through some shit with the Singularity.  You helped me figure shit out.  Let me return the favor.”

            “Barry, no.  I’ll leave, it’s no problem,” Arin muttered, slumping his shoulders and preparing to leave to pack his stuff.

            “You missed the point, man.  Stop.  Listen, go if that’s what you want, but I am going to have to make some ultimatums, aren’t I?”

            “Fuck your ultimatums.  Just let me leave, Barry.  I’m a liability.”

            “Arin, so help me, if you don’t say something I will lock you in this ship.  Now tell me, what happened on Theropodus?  I know there was some sort of monster, but come on.  Kevin dealt with it, even Dan dealt with it and he almost died.  Talk,” Barry ordered.

            “I told you already I wasn’t ready to talk about it.  That stands.”

            “That was a month ago.  Arin, you’re being really unreasonable.”

            “Maybe what happened a month ago defied reason, okay?  It’s not the easiest to deal with!”  Arin snapped, frustration about to hit the boiling point.

            “You’re pissed off at me.”

            “What gave you that fucking idea, Barry?”

            “No, I mean that’s the only thing I’ve seen resembling a real emotion from you in ages.  Talk to me, dammit!”

            “So your strategy is to piss me the fuck off to make me say something?”

            “If it works,” Barry conceded.

            “Fine, you’re so fucking persistent… but I promise, when I’m done… you’ll want me off of the ship,” Arin lamented.

            “If that is the case and that is what you want, I will respect that, but I don’t know why you’re so fatalistic about it.”

            A few small patches of moisture appeared on the neckline of the robe as Arin slumped down onto the couch and prepared to tell his story.  He truly felt like a broken man, like he deserved to be kicked off of his own ship and to drift into space and stay away from everyone he used to care about.

            “So, Arin,” Barry began, trying to soothe Arin as much as he could and not missing what appeared to be the evidence of tears behind the concealing robe, “What happened on Theropodus?”

            “There’s this group called the DINO, and they got some grant from some group called the RAPTOR to make a sort of super-soldier,” Arin started, steeling his confidence despite his every nerve screaming at him to run from the room, “And Kevin worked for them.  I don’t know how much you know from Kevin, but he hated it and was just a programmer.  He kind of won me over enough to come with me.”

            “Yeah, I’ve talked to Kevin.  I get where he’s coming from and I’m not as against having him here as I was,” Barry acknowledged.

            “So how much do you know?”

            “Basically just that and the monster thing.”

            “So, they found someone to make into some weird hybrid thing with the Theropodan DNA and have the best of both sets of abilities and instincts, and this guy is a fuckin’ monster,” Arin continued, trying for now to avoid mentioning who this subject was.

            “Wait, hybridizing?  Isn’t that crazy illegal?”

            “For sentient beings, yeah, but of course, as I said, this place was a fuckin’ clusterfuck, Bare.  Zero out of ten, would not visit again, worst vacation ever.”  Arin finished this announcement with a bitter chuckle.

            “Yeah, I get that impression from Kevin too.”

            “And they made him fight Dan even though he was innocent,” Arin admitted, another tear running down his jawline and down the collar of the robe.  He really hoped it wasn't obvious just how emotional this was making him.

            “Arin, I know it’s hard to think about, but who was this guy?  Can we save him?  Did you bring him with you?”

            “Barry,” Arin chuckled morosely, fidgeting in his seat. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

            “I have some ideas, but I do want to know what you saw before I share.”

            “Always the formal one, huh?  Fine, fine, just fuck it, you’d find out eventually and if you didn’t know you’d find out soon enough,” Arin rambled and, with one fluid motion, pulled back the hood on his robe to reveal what changes were obvious.  Tears slowly but steadily flowed down his cheeks, some of them landing on the robe collar and others running down his shirt underneath and making it stick to his chest.  His efforts to hide his emotions had decidedly failed, but he decided manly tears were forgivable.

            “I had a feeling that was the case,” Barry admitted.

            “So get it over with and kick me out.  I’m the monster of the Theropodan mission.  I’m the one who almost killed Dan.  They fucking brainwashed me, Barry.  End of story.”  So far, the few tears from the breaking of the tension of the situation were dignified, but he felt an ugly cry that he had pent up hovering just underneath the surface.

            A brief silence hung over the duo as Barry processed the new information and Arin tried to compose himself.  Finally, Barry broke the silence.  “I know this is insensitive, but this question is absolutely necessary.  Are you still brainwashed?”

            “No.  Y-you don’t know what it’s like.  I just went fuckin’ berserk on Dan because they hit some button or something.  It’s not something I’d like to repeat, but even if it weren’t a violent thing, it’s something I’d know.  The details are something you’d have to ask Kevin about, not me.”

            “Kevin was involved?” Barry asked, his tone darkening as he wondered if he had misjudged the younger raptor.

            “He programmed it, but he also turned it off when that jerkass boss triggered it.  I get the feeling it wasn’t something he was all that comfortable with making.  Like we have said over and over, that mission was a clusterfuck.”

            “Yeah, I get that, but…” Barry trailed off.

            “No buts, okay, Kevin stays.  It’s my payment to him for getting me the fuck out of there.”

            “I mean I wasn’t going to say that, but I get it.  But why not tell someone about it?”

            “You ever just look in a mirror and not want to keep looking, Bare?”

            “Okay, I seem to have to keep reminding everyone that, while sentient, I am a program and these things aren’t relatable,” Barry groaned.

            “There’s a story behind this,” Arin prodded.

            “Quit changing the subject!”

            “Anyway, that happened, okay?  I have fucking nightmares about ripping things to shreds.  You know why I wore that robe the day we came back?  I didn’t have time to shower and I was drenched in blood.  Dan’s blood.  You ever seen someone almost die?  It’s traumatic enough from the outside.  Being the living weapon responsible?  I’d get murdered or worse back home.”

            “Only seen that in videos and simulations.  That’s… not the same, is it?”

            “I mean I’m not the one made of code and shit, but I am going to say no.  Probably not.  So yeah.  Got a lot of shit to work through.  Plus looking like this," he gestured toward himself, "what if people think I’m some kind of fuckin’ monster?”

            “Dude, isn’t this some kind of superhero origin story?  Why are you not stoked over this?”

            “I hadn’t thought of it like that.  But it doesn’t feel like that to me.  Dunno what it feels like.”  Arin shrugged, mulling it over as the waves of emotions began to recede, leaving him tired but surprisingly more peaceful.

            “Listen, think of it however, but you are still the captain of this vessel unless you choose to leave.  I keep doing my job, you start yours up again, and we’re golden.  You got a crew member who didn’t come with the ship, Arin!  That’s a selling point if I ever heard one.  And I have a feeling we’re going to be doing some recruiting soon… Captain.”

            “You have a plan, don’t you?”

            “Always.  I mean my original pre-Singularity code was to be a navigator and personal assistant.  Planning is kind of my thing.  Now go get yourself straight, take off that stupid robe, and be ready for whatever happens,” Barry encouraged, smiling despite himself.

            “We restock and plan tomorrow.  Let’s make this fuckin’ happen, man!” Arin announced.  Despite the still-drying tear stains on the robe and shirt below, he couldn’t help feeling a little bit better.  And he didn’t have to bring some crazy shrink in to do it.

            “Yeah.  Besides, if I remember right, ‘The least you could do is your goddamn job,’ isn’t that right, Arin?”

            “Did you just quote me at me?”

            “Yeah.  Now go, I’m sick of this bucket of bolts and I have some inquiries to respond to,” Barry dismissed, noticing a tiny notification on his messages from one [dannysexbang@northernstarpatrol.com](mailto:dannysexbang@northernstarpatrol.com).  Yes, this was going to work out fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of plot in a lot of dialogue, but there's so much character development here. I actually teared up writing some of this chapter.
> 
> I hope it makes as much sense to you all as it makes to me. This doesn't miraculously fix the whole situation, of course, but it does let the plot move forward. This is not the end of sad Arin, but it is the beginning of the dawn of the Bombers.
> 
> Also I love Barry's "Your human experiences are not universal" moments.
> 
> The email is fake. Please do not send any emails to that address.


	21. Welcome to the Crew of the Starbomb

            Later that night, Arin had finally finished adapting his wardrobe to the new raptor tail, and he worked like a man possessed to get caught up on any notifications, captain’s duties, and finally straightening up the mess his quarters had become since returning from the last mission.  It was still a mess, but the room finally looked cozy and messy instead of like the den of sloth and depression it once was.  The accursed robe sat in the hamper in the corner of his room, and with a sigh that started to resemble satisfaction, he surveyed what had to be done before he could start recruiting a crew to come into his ship.

            As he absently finished tidying up and kept waiting on the telltale ding of notifications on his comm, he invariably began to think of the events of the day.  He hadn’t wanted to tell Barry everything at all, but it was only a matter of time before he slipped up and Barry figured it out or Kevin talked or some space cop came to arrest him for near-murder.  No, from what he could gather, no one had decided to press charges, so that last one was out.  But regardless, Barry knew and didn’t want him out... And somehow that brought the first ray of sunlight back to Arin’s outlook.

            Honestly, for a man whose main joke was ‘One day I’m going to find a more responsible captain,’ Barry had proven to be more loyal than a lot of people, much less artificial intelligences, that Arin had met.  Back before the giant ship sailed through the cosmos under his command, he had bought it as a desperate move after the original owners, a cluster of small families eager to leave together, sold the ship for a fraction of its value.  They, like many within the first year of the Singularity, feared any AI that became sentient, and although only the ones that perceived mistreatment actually caused harm, they didn’t want to deal with some personality that would inevitably demand rights, or slack off, or… who knows?  Arin didn’t care, really.  He had worked with technology enough that he could work his way around a troublesome personality, and who could pass up the cheap transportation that didn’t involve stupid government bureaucracy? 

            The old owners had been really stupid to pass up the ship, too.  Arin had dealt with his fair share of horror stories related to rogue artificial intelligences and technology outages because programs wouldn’t work, and so on, but Barry hadn’t even been remotely like that.  If the original buyers had actually stayed to talk to the guy after the initial sentience check showed that the Singularity had indeed impacted this program too, they would probably have kept the ship.  Barry reminded Arin of the kind of guy he would have had as a friend before everything went down. 

So why did he originally doubt that the man and the machine behind the Starbomb would have figured out how to manage yet another crisis?  Yet again, Barry had come through at the right time with the right solution, even if the last time he did that was the reason they were waiting on Dan to recover.

Arin shook his head.  That was enough of that train of thought, or else he might just end up crying his eyes out again at the thought of having to admit he was a monster.  No, not a monster.  He wasn’t going to say that anymore, but he was definitely going to have to admit that his life was going to be different from here on out.  The brainwashed program was what made monsters, not him.

It was not going to be easy to shake the lingering guilt and doubt.  They nibbled away at the edges of his thoughts like mice on an exceptionally large block of cheese, but they felt a little less vicious now, as though they had finally started to feel full.  Hopefully his crew-to-be would prove to be the exterminators he needed so he could keep this rush of productivity up.  But Barry had set the traps and Arin intended to keep shooing the metaphorical rodents.

After his second shower of the day, this time to rid himself of the slight salt sheen of tears and to finish tidying his appearance up if he was to be seen in public, Arin collapsed onto his bed and, for the first time in weeks, slept peacefully without any nightmares.

The next day, around noon, Kevin was minding his own business and working on a freelance job when he heard a knock at his door.  He let the knocking continue a bit longer while he waited on the project, then turned around in the swivel chair he had recently picked up during their extended stop on Phobos.

            “It’s open, come in!” he called, trying to figure out who would come at this hour.

            “Hey, Kevin, got a question for you!” Arin announced, stepping into Kevin’s quarters.

            “Arin!  I didn’t expect you to be making the rounds,” Kevin admitted.

            “Yeah, long story short, I’m back in action, enough of that sad son of a bitch stuff.  Thank Barry for that.  But he brought up an interesting point that I need to talk about.”

            “What’s up?  Sit down if you want,” Kevin invited, gesturing at the neatly-made bed in the corner of the small apartment that made up his current accommodations.

            Arin obliged, wincing as he statted to sit down on his tail.  Kevin couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as the captain straightened himself out, obviously a little flustered.  “You’re still doing that?  Come on, man, it’s not that hard to deal with,” Kevin laughed.

            Arin shot Kevin a glare.  “You get in a habit of, you know, not having a tail to sit down on after over twenty-eight years,” he defended.

            “Yeah, well.  You get used to it.  Then again, I guess I have the reverse habit.  So, what was it?  I was about to take a break anyway.”

            “Well, first, thanks for what you did back there on that mission.  Not gonna lie, I’m not the happiest you got me into that mess, but I’d still be down there if you hadn’t been a schemer.  So, thanks,” he finished lamely.

            “If the roles had been reversed, you’d have gotten it.  Things are a mess down there, especially in the third quadrant.  That’s a rough little part of the main continent of the planet, lots of wars and shit,” Kevin explained.

            “Wars?  You don’t mean…”

            “Yep, if you’d stayed, you’d have seen a lot of nasty shit.  Best not to dwell on it.  Trust me,” Kevin advised.

            “Is that why everyone there was such a dick?”

            “Not everyone, but yeah, lots of folks are assholes because they’ve been through a lot. Helps them cope.  I left for a reason.  I’m sorry you got dragged into it.”

            “So now that you’ve left, what are you gonna do?”

            “I don’t know; I’m just enjoying not being ordered to do horrible things anymore.  Thanks for the way out, by the way.”

            “Are you going to stay here?  Because it’s cool if you’re not, but we are going to be going out and taking more missions and shit once we’re done here,” Arin probed.

            “I don’t know.  Are you going to kick me out or something?”

            “I was actually here to discuss a different arrangement, but of course, I’m not a tyrant.  You don’t have to take it.”

            “I’m listening.”

            “Join us.  Barry and I are starting to actually get a crew together.  I did a lot of solo missions with Barry as my backup over the last two years, but it’s pretty limiting to only be one guy, even if I am a little stronger than usual now.  We could do a lot more with a crew.  You’re welcome to stay or go if you don’t join up.  I’m not going to force anything.  Lord knows you’ve been forced into a lot of shit.  But just think about it.  You wouldn’t have to stop taking personal projects if you want, but you could be the start of the official crew of the Starbomb,” Arin offered.

            “I’m not going to have to start doing awful war machine shit, right?”

            “No, even anything with combat is pretty light.  I’m not here to start a militia.  I’m here to start a crew.  If we fight, it’s out of necessity.  I’m more in for deliveries, escorts, odd jobs, you know,” Arin explained.  After seeing just what he could do, he was definitely not looking to become some sort of galactic gladiator.  He didn’t want more blood on his hands than he needed, but he wasn’t averse to being the good captain and protecting his crew.

            “I mean if it’s enough to get by on,” Kevin conceded, “but don’t the war bounties pay more?”

            “Yeah, but we made enough credits to get by very comfortably since I got into this, no war needed.  You just don’t hear about those jobs because they’re not flashy.  So, what do you say?  You’d make a fixed portion of the missions we do, get a sweet uniform—which I haven’t got yet, but it’s on its way—and a place to live.  You’ve seen the ship.  It’s practically a flying hotel,” Arin pitched.

            “I’ll make you a deal,” Kevin announced after thinking it over for a few silent minutes.  “I’ll join as long as it’s not a contract.  I want to be able to leave if I hate it.  I’m used to hearing those too-good-to-be-true offers.  But what you offer sounds reasonable, and I can’t argue with having somewhere to live, a job, and the promise of being able to see stuff I’d never have seen back when I was in that complex.  I’ll go for it.”

            “Thanks, Kevin.  It’ll be worth it, I promise.  And if you want to leave at any time, just talk to me.  I’m not going to force shit on anybody,” Arin promised, offering his hand for Kevin to shake to seal the deal.

            “Um, no offense, but why are you reaching for me?” Kevin asked, eyeing Arin’s extended hand.

            “It’s a human thing.  We shake hands to seal a deal.  Sorry, I didn’t even think about how weird it seems to people who don’t do that.”

            Kevin laughed and held out one of his hands, gently taking Arin’s in his own.  This was a weird situation indeed.

            “So now you just kind of grasp it and shake it up and down.  Yeah, it’s weird.  Sorry,” Arin apologized.

            “It is, but if that’s how you make a deal, I can manage.”

            “Well, Kevin, welcome to the crew of the Starbomb,” Arin proclaimed, getting up and preparing to leave.

            “Thanks,” Kevin responded, smiling faintly at the thought of some stability for once.

            Arin dismissed himself, shutting the door behind him, and, once he was away from any lines of sight, he quietly cheered and did a little victory dance.  From several rooms away, he heard a speaker let out Barry’s tell-tale laugh at Arin’s antics.  “Hey, man, shut up, we have a crew now!” Arin shouted triumphantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot progression, at least sort of! A lot of introspection in the first half and setup in the last part.
> 
> I hope the sheer amount of feeling in this chapter and section doesn't make it come off as goofy and sentimental. I just like the feeling that, behind closed doors and underneath the shenanigans, the crew of the Starbomb is surprisingly genuine. Also, that Theropodus is even more fucked up than the story actually goes into at this point. Kevin's seen some shit.
> 
> A word on the depression I have written in the past few chapters: Obviously I have not been in this situation because this is science fiction, but I have been depressed several times in my life. Technically, I still do have depression, but I am managing it well enough that it has not caused any episodes recently. I used my own experiences with depression to inform and shape the reactions and feelings described. I recognize that my own experiences do not speak for everyone, but I hope they read as authentically as possible.
> 
> Also, given that things are starting to look up on the Markiplier front after his most recent update, I may write the story where it left off for his crowd in a chapter or two. I will still use my best judgement on when to post it, though. I have nothing but respect for him in this difficult time and don't want to rush things.


	22. We Have the Technology

2015, Phobos Housing Quarters #1127, Apartment of Mark Fischbach (Where we left off...)

            Mark was shooting Sean a glare that could kill as Sean finished his portion of the story.  “So I guess you’re waiting for me to finish the damn story?” he snarled.

            “Well, yeah, I mean my part of the story from here is basically lose my credits, get a sweet bionic eye,” Sean finished.

            “Well, I never wanted you to start, you loudmouthed idiot,” Mark countered, gripping his desk so hard there was a slight cracking sound as a fissure spread across the thick finish of the wood.

            “Mark, calm down, he’s trying to tell us something because it might be important.  He’s not here to offend,” Ross consoled.  “I mean really, I get it, shit happens to good people.”

            “I still thought that when I asked someone to not say something, they’d fucking listen!” Mark shouted at Sean, sending him a brutal side-eye.

            “Man, calm down, you know I meant well!” Sean defended, sizing up Mark in case he decided to do anything stupid.

            “You know very well I do not like thinking about that story!”

            “Mark, please, calm down,” Holly attempted.

            “I get it, I mean I don’t like thinking about dying either.  I had to look at my goddamn corpse!  But calm down, you’re gonna snap your desk or something,” Ross added.

            “Wait, really?” Mark asked, bewildered for a second.

            “Yeah,” Ross and Holly answered in unison.  “Not recommended, by the way,” Ross finished.

            “I told you there was a good reason for me to tell them,” Sean insisted, trying to defuse the situation.

            “Fine, then I guess I’ll tell my part.  But just realize, I have my reasons beyond this to hate the story.  I guess you’ll see,” Mark sighed, slowly relaxing his tensed up muscles and easing back into his chair.  He took a deep breath and picked up the story from the next thing he remembered.

2013, Phobos Colony Housing Quarters #1072 (Apartment of Jirard Khalil)

            The first thing Mark noticed when he woke up was a subtle, persistent whirring in his ears.  The next thing he noticed was a boot cycle running on a display that appeared overlaid on top of his surroundings.

            Wait, what?

            “Run updates now?” a window asked in the corner of his vision.

            “Excuse me?” Mark called out, very confused and groggy.  The last thing he remembered was going down to that murderous android, and then this happened.  Was he dead?  Well, things weren’t right, but something told him that death didn’t have an update window.

            “Hey, man, you’re awake!” the redheaded medical technician shouted gleefully.  “Jirard, we didn’t kill him!”

            “I already knew we wouldn’t kill him, Alex, now cut it out or else you might confuse him to death,” Jirard reproached his companion.  He hastened over to Mark lying on the temporary cot he had set up in his own apartment.  “Hey, sorry you’re probably not where you expected to be, but your buddy Jack recommended we use some pretty less-than-entirely-legal stuff to help you out, so you’re in my own personal lab instead of med bay.”

            ‘Goddammit, Sean,’ Mark cursed internally, ‘of course you’d be shady about this.’  “So, drugs or something?” he probed, wondering if that little updating window was a result of tripping balls on some new painkiller.

            “Nah, dude, we don’t do that trade.  Too risky.  Robotics.  Check it!” Alex announced, pointing at a stack of spare parts in the corner.

            “Okay, I know I just woke up and my mind is pretty shitty right now, but I’m not seeing the connection.  Why exactly am I in your questionably-legal robotics den?” Mark inquired, head still fuzzy from the serious knockout.

            “This is gonna make a lot more sense if we know where to start.  What DO you remember?” Alex began.

            “I remember that psycho robot, some lasers, poison, and then it’s just fuzzy flashes from there.  Did you bring me here to find out how to break that thing down?” Mark guessed.

            “Nah, that thing is taken care of, but it wasn’t easy.  No, we had to bring you here from medical.  You were… well, let’s not mince words here.  You were pretty much at death’s door.  The longer the poisons sat in your system and the more blood was lost, the worse you’d be.  Se—um, Jack—heard us talk about the possibilities if you survived and told us to just fix it.  On him.  So after clearing your system of damage, you were half-dead and we got to work,” Jirard explained, gesturing at the empty boxes for several android components.

            “Yeah, Kellie came in clutch and helped us get things ready and then we basically built things back up.  You remember ‘We can rebuild him; we have the technology?’  Basically, that.  Your left arm was trash, your eyes were shot, and a lot of major muscles were limp noodles.  So we got the top of the line stuff we had lying around, ordered the rest on rush, and installed it,” Alex continued, swelling a bit with pride at the mention of his girlfriend’s talents.

            “Wait, wait, hold up a second!” Mark interrupted.  “Rebuild me!?  What the hell?”

            “Exactly what it sounds like!  Jirard runs a little business from getting the parts, we install it fully, and we get paid.  Jack paid us to do this, so we did it.  We’ve seen some crazy body mods from volunteers and we helped him with his eye, so we know what we’re doing, and our medical experience and Kellie on call made it easy mode.”

            “You’ll have to excuse me for not exactly being the fastest learner here, but am I understanding what I think I’m understanding here?” Mark pressed, silently taking inventory of what did and did not feel right.

            “That depends on what you’re understanding,” Jirard followed.

            “I should be dead, I’m not, and I’ve got a ton of robot parts now?” Mark tried.

            “That’s the gist of it.  You have some robotically-enhanced muscles, complete with essentially a second heart to operate them, a top-of-the-line robotic arm, and bionic eyes.  And some sweet extra hookups for a heads-up display, access to communications in your HUD, and a few other little tweaks to either keep you alive, make the parts work, or be awesome,” Jirard listed.

            “So I’m not dead and this isn’t some dream,” Mark clarified.

            “If it is a dream, it feels real to us,” Alex answered.

            “Should I run some updates?  There’s been a little window in the corner of my vision for this whole conversation asking me to update.”

            “Yeah, that’s a new hardware thing.  Just look right at the window and it’ll work like a click.  It’s some pretty neat tech, all hands-free and high-end.  And of course I left room for upgrades when they get obsolete.”

            Mark complied, and while the upgrades ran, he began to plan how he would have to adapt to his new systems.  He didn’t feel different, his mind hadn’t been impacted, and he was glad to be alive for yet another day… but there would be a lot of adjustments, that was for sure.

2015, Phobos Colony Housing Quarters #1127 (Apartment of Mark Fischbach)

            “I still don’t get it.  That’s a good thing that Jack did, you’re not dead, and you’re apparently strong as shit.  Why do you hate talking about it?” Ross asked as Mark finished up.

            “I didn’t tell you all of what happened next.  Among the adjustments, I learned just how much stronger I was.  And let me just say cracking that desk was nothing.  I—“ Mark paused, swallowed hard, and obviously considered what to say next, “I had a girlfriend at the time.  Nice woman.  I won’t go too much into detail since I know Sean will blab it to everyone and we kept it quiet, but I was showing her everything and she grabbed my metal hand.  I tried to be nice, tried to hold her hand, and the next thing I knew she was clutching her hand.  I broke it.  I broke it with a simple reach to hold her hand!”

            “That’s not your fault,” Holly consoled.

            “It got better, and she didn’t blame me.  We broke up later for unrelated reasons.  But I just don’t really handle the whole cyborg thing well since then.  I’m not the kind of guy who goes around hurting people.  I’m fucking great with tools, I’m excessively gentle at work, but I just don’t like thinking about how I can be so dangerous.  So I just try not to,” Mark finished, “or at least I tried not to until someone brought it up!”

            “Hey, hey, don’t pin your insecurities on me!” Sean defended.

            “You’ve gotten better since then, though, right?” Ross asked.

            “That’s not the point!” Mark snapped, irritated that his audience missed the point of his complaints.

            “It kind of is,” Sean pointed out.

            “I’m not saying don’t get something good, I’m just saying… fuck, I don’t know, be careful.  But now I guess you know how I know all about these things.  And you know I’m not just some crazy engineer who made myself into my own engineering project.”

            “If it helps at all, you did kind of tell the two people who would be most likely to understand desperate measures to save a life,” Holly added.

            “Yeah, I told you!” Sean shouted.

            “I’m still not happy about it, but I guess it’s time to not mope so much about this and start making some damn good use out of that experience.  Now, let’s start planning and making arrangements to get this guy something that isn’t a pigeon,” Mark announced, pulling up several drafting programs and a few notepads out and preparing to take notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not the world's greatest chapter, but it progresses things and picks up where we left off. I figure if Mark is willing to be back in the saddle in LA, I'm fairly okay to post this.
> 
> There's a lot of info that will come back from this chapter, even if it was just a continuation of a flashback put on hold. Heavy plot development is coming VERY soon with both Ross' story and the continuing saga of building a crew for the Starbomb.
> 
> Also, I've had a headcanon from the beginning of the development of Space Grumps headcanons about Mark that he is very strong, too nice to want to use that, and therefore can't fight to save his ass. Now we know why he doesn't like to hear people acknowledge how much stronger/better/more different he is.


	23. Get Ready

Three Days Later, Phobos Colony Housing Quarters #1072 (Apartment of Jirard Khalil)

            “I’m honestly impressed you came through with that order so quickly,” Holly noted, signing off on the delivery paperwork for several questionably-legal robot parts.

            “I have some fast shippers.  Plus, you paid the premium.  They have reasons to move quickly,” Jirard answered as he began to unpack the many crates that now littered the workspace half of his apartment.

            “Plus, I made sure to sign them in, so no one would say anything about some fabricated company names,” Sean continued, baring a sly grin to the assembled company in the room.

            Although Jirard and Alex usually preferred to work alone, the special case that was Ross somehow ended in an apartment full of lively scientists and associates all awaiting the special day to come.  No hints or attempts to hurry them out of the room would be heard by the excited group who had designed the blueprints, so Jirard just gave up and said they could stay.

            For whatever reason, Mark and Sean had gotten so excited by the prospect of their plans coming into fruition that they had decided to dye their hair for the occasion, which made the atmosphere livelier than it already was.  All anyone could get out of them was that there was some bet about how quickly Holly, Sean, and Jirard could expedite the plans the crew in Mark’s apartment spent the whole night making after all of the stories were in the past.  The only thing they figured out was that, as a side effect of this bet, Mark had decided to cut off most of the extra hair on the sides of his head, and the top section of hair was now a bright, fluorescent pink.  Sean had done very similarly, but instead, his hair was a shocking neon green.

            Holly, meanwhile, was jittery, checking and re-checking the program that was supposed to aid in the transition between robot bodies, and offering an extra set of hands whenever Jirard and Alex needed support with assembly.  Ross was chattering nervously to whoever would listen, every now and then urgently asking Holly for the millionth time whether there would be a backup or whether he would cease to exist if this failed.  “Calm down, Ross, I have it taken care of.  That’s why I am even here,” she answered nearly every time.  He always slunk away to join the loud conversations between the pink-haired cyborg, who was supervising to make sure the plans were created appropriately but otherwise running his mouth to the Irishman, who was only here because he would be too distracted to work otherwise.

            The group had considered bringing in Jared and some of his friends to this robot-building party, but they were busy, and honestly, the apartment would have been too crowded to add them to the crowd of a robot chassis, five people, and a robotic BIRD.

            “I still don’t get why she won’t let you have a built-in laser cannon,” Sean announced, referring to Ross’ long list of desired features.

            “I do,” Mark growled, shocked that Sean would be so flippant when the lasers were why he had the eye in the first place.  Then again, he was rather proud of his neon-green bionic eye.

            “I guess I get it, but I wish she’d at least let me be fuckin’ ripped!” Ross complained.

            “She just wanted the robot to look like you did.  I think it’s sweet!” Mark countered with a grin.

            “But then how will I threaten the scrublords?” Ross whined.

            “Dude, did you forget when Mark almost broke his desk?  Robots.  Are.  Strong.” Sean emphasized.

            “You won’t let that go, will you…” Mark mumbled.

            “Nope, that’s what friends are for!” Sean laughed.

            Their conversation continued around and around in this manner, discussing the vetoing of flamethrowers, electromagnetic pulses, cloaking, a built-in MP3 player, a Mega Man arm cannon, and gaydar, among other things ranging from the dangerous to the ridiculous.  At least Ross had been able to convince Holly to make some compromises.

            After hours of fidgeting, chatter, checking, double-checking, assembling, and programming, things were finally ready to go on operation BIRD-brain, a name which had started out as a joke from Sean and managed to stick over the days since, much to Ross’ irritation.

            “All right, does it look right?” Jirard asked, wiping sweat from his brow and gesturing at the humanoid body on the table in the corner of the room.  For an android, it had managed to be a reasonable facsimile of how Ross had looked before this mess had begun.  Yes, it was metallic, but hey, fake skin looked creepy in an uncanny valley sort of way, so it worked.

            “It matches the blueprints,” Mark confirmed, looking at the overlay of the prints in his glasses display and comparing them to the finished product.

            “Thank god, that was a rough build,” Alex sighed.  “We usually do a few parts, not a whole body.  But we got it done!”

            “I’m fine with it, though I think by this point I’d be fine with a toaster,” Ross admitted.

            “You wouldn’t!” Holly laughed, “You’d complain about making everyone’s toast!”

            “Watch it,” Ross argued.

            “That’s a fine bot,” Sean added, admiring the high-end components.

            Jirard broke the affirmations and admirations with a reminder of what to do next. “Okay, we haven’t run the software checks because a lot is going to change, but it looks stable.  Holly, you have the manual.  You’re gonna need to be the mechanic for this in the future, so keep it on hand.  But it’s ready if you are.”

            “I’ve been ready since this happened!” Ross answered impatiently.

            Holly nodded, gave the little pigeon bird chassis a light kiss on the head, and powered it down.  “Let’s do this.”

            Hours of file transfers and nervous tension later, a “100% complete!” message popped up on the computer Holly was using as a medium to transfer Ross’ data.  The deed was done after a long day of waiting, and all that was left was to let updates and patches run so that Ross would know how to use the body without a crazy learning curve.  Holly leaned back in her chair, unaware just how tense she had been until she relaxed.  “Well, I guess I should thank you all for helping out.  I mean, I know some of you are doing this for money, but I know this wasn’t easy and you’ve been nothing but help.”

            “Nah, I like a challenge!  And it’s either that or some crappy little service drone, so why not get the good stuff?” Alex answered.

            “Besides, usually we’re doing some sketchy stuff.  At least you all have legitimate reasons,” Jirard admitted.  Typically, he had to be a lot more cautious with his clients, but since he had history with Sean and Mark and sympathized with the situation, he was willing to drop the protocol.

            “I just like you all and think robots are cool!” Sean added honestly.

            “What he said!” Mark seconded.

            “Well, seriously, thanks.  I’d have figured out something, but it would have taken a lot longer and involved a lot less laughing about stuff.”

            Another ding sounded from the computer.  The updates were done.  Holly snapped the spare PERCH chip back in the original BIRD, and it booted to a standard BIRD AI.  Half of the process was complete, then.  “All right, get ready…” Holly announced as she began the boot sequence for the full-sized android that would hopefully awaken with Ross at the helm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for vanishing for a while! Writer's block. But I figured out a way out of it and managed to work in some fun details like the hair dye.
> 
> This chapter is a lot of standing around, but there's progress to be made, world to build, and a cliffhanger because I'm evil... ;)
> 
> Also, it's come to my attention that the whole Mark/Sean backstory had two accidental almost-perfect references to things I had not seen before: one to Destiny: The Taken King and one to X-Ray and Vav. I honestly knew nothing about them, but I have been informed that they are accurate enough it's hard to believe I didn't know. Whoops?


	24. Oddly Familiar

            It was invigorating, like waking up and taking a huge stretch in your own bed, yet without the hazy fog of old half-forgotten dreams.  The painted metal android’s two bright blue eyes lit up, and the first thing Ross saw was Holly poring over the computer’s keys, praying the code worked.

            “The eyes lit up!” Sean announced triumphantly.

            “That just means it booted,” Mark explained, “So don’t get too excited yet.”

            “Well, everything _seems_ normal, but we have to wait and see what happens,” Holly interpreted, trying to keep it together in case she had to break some bad news.

            All eyes were on Ross as he shifted, figuring everything out enough to actually sit up for the first time in ages.  “Hey, it worked!  Hey, guys.”

            A cheer rose from everyone in the room as the collective breath they had been holding was released all at once.  “Ross?” Holly asked hopefully.

            “Yeah?” He answered.

            “Oh good, it worked.  I was afraid something had gone wrong.  How does it feel?”

            “You guys fuckin’ did it!  And anything is better than what I was dealing with, but honestly, perspective and whatnot, everything seems small.”

            “You’ll adjust,” Sean acknowledged, “But hell yeah!  I think this calls for a party!”

            “You think everything calls for a party!” Mark countered good-naturedly.

            “No, we’ve been working all week.  I have to agree.  Call in any of our other friends too.  Party at our place in an hour or so!” Ross announced, glancing at Holly to make sure he didn’t overstep his bounds.  She was grinning, so it didn’t seem to be the case.  “And if you two,” he added, pointing at Jirard and Alex, “can make it, come down!”

The next day, Phobos Colony Medical Ward

            Despite the aftermath of the wild party of the night prior, business as usual kept moving forward on Phobos, but since Ross didn’t really have a job to do, he humored a request from Alex to come to the medical bay to show off the robot’s craftsmanship to Kellie, who couldn’t make it to the afterparty.

            “Come look at this guy!” Alex announced after he noticed Ross’ arrival.

            “Hang on, I’m just finishing up with this patient over here,” Kellie answered, checking and recording the vital signs of the tall man in the corner bed.  “Honestly, if you’re ready, everything has healed.  The captain of the ship that brought you here will be glad to know.  He was pretty worried.  And we cut the scarring down by a lot too, so that’s a plus,” she continued in a lower voice to the patient.

            “Aw, thanks.  Yeah, you’ve been great, but it’ll be good to get up and go places again!” the patient answered with a big grin.

            Kellie smiled at the man, then hurried over and examined the new body that Ross had gotten the previous evening.  She had helped order the materials for the rest of her team, so she knew what it would look like, but she knew that acting surprised would make Alex happy and sate his pride, so she humored him.  Ross, meanwhile, stood awkwardly, not really knowing what to do as the center of attention.

            Meanwhile, from the ship dock, Arin’s communicator beeped, and he checked it to see that Dan was free to leave the colony at last.  He had been waiting for this notification, so he grabbed his favorite jacket and was off the ship in a hurry.  He was deep in thought as he walked the halls of the bay in Phobos, considering options for his crew, since Barry had revealed that Dan was soon to be a free agent.  There was also the matter of whether Dan would even want to be around the same person who had landed him in a hospital in the first place.  Arin puzzled over this as he approached the medical ward, readying himself for anything that could happen while escorting Dan back to the ship dock.

            He briefly wondered why Dan had chosen to ask for a return trip on the Starbomb instead of calling an NSP transport, but figured that a man of such high rank must have his reasons not to bring in the Patrol.  But alas, Arin was so lost in his own head that he nearly ran face-first into the android standing not far from the doorway of the medical ward.  “Oh shit, sorry, man,” Arin mumbled, backing away a bit.

            “Be careful!” the android admonished, sizing up the man who nearly bowled him over.

            “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Arin explained defensively.  In the back of his head, he wondered why the robot’s voice sounded like one he had heard before.  He hadn’t had a lot of contact with AIs outside of Barry and a few here and there who had worked with his clients.  None of them had sounded like this.

            “Still, dude, I’m not exactly easy to miss.  Just watch yourself, okay?” Ross finished.

            Kellie and Alex, meanwhile, were helping Dan tidy up his few belongings and heard the commotion.  Alex hurried over and sized up the newcomer.  “Oh, hey.  Captain Hanson, from the Starbomb, I’m guessing?” Alex questioned.

            “Yeah.  I heard you were done with Dan?  I came to get him back to my ship since it’s docked a bit far away,” Arin answered.

            “Yeah, he’s right over there.” Alex pointed at Dan, whose bag was sitting on his bed.

            “Wait, where do I know that name from?” Ross asked, the fairly familiar name and voice piquing his interest.  But the only person who he knew of definitely wasn’t an alien.  He thought it was quite strange…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long delay between chapters! I'm now working two jobs to make some extra money. Both are awesome, but it's harder to make writing time! Add writer's block to that and it's a mess.
> 
> But here's an end to one cliffhanger and the beginning of another. I know, short chapter, but I wanted to make the next scene great. It will take a bit longer on one of my days off to make that happen.
> 
> Hopefully it won't be two weeks until the next chapter. I have big plans to get the crew together, but I needed to segment off the chapters to make sure that they don't come off rushed.


	25. Code Mad King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the impromptu hiatus! Work and life and writer's block hit me like a truck. I finally found some inspiration, so prepare for some really big things!

            “Well, you sound familiar, but I definitely didn’t know any robots back on Earth… at least not before the singularity.  What gives, dude?  Why do I know you?” Arin asked, cocking his head slightly and thinking hard.

            “I don’t know.  I definitely never met any aliens, but I did work with an Arin Hanson back when I animated a lot.  But he was definitely a human from Earth,” Ross mused out loud.

            Arin noticeably wilted a bit at that reminder.  “No, dude, that was me.  LONG story, and this isn’t the time and place.  But why do I know you?  Because I never animated with a robot, and the only real robot I deal with these days is my ship’s AI, and I know you’re not Barry.”

            “Dude, I am hurt!  You don’t remember what I always said I’d do instead of dying?  I just got that robot body a bit early is all,” Ross explained.

            “Ross?  No shit!  We need to catch up before I take off again!” Arin laughed, pulling the android into a hug before he could protest.

            Meanwhile, in the engineering department, Mark’s glasses frames lit up on the temple pieces.  A window flashed on his HUD, signaling a call from Wade.  “I’m busy…” Mark grumbled, signaling to ignore it.  A moment later, the call repeated.  With a sigh, he answered it.  “Wade, I’m busy.  What is it?”

            “Mark, get out of work and go pack your stuff.  Get everyone to join you.  I have some information that’s about to hit the news for you and it’s not good.  Phobos is going to be evacuated,” Wade hurriedly informed him.

            “What?  Why?  We’re well prepared for almost any disaster.  I know, I helped with some of the systems!” Mark defended.

            “No, man, this is big.  Way big.  Like ‘Haywood is back’ big,” Wade urged.

            Mark sputtered and coughed at that revelation.  “Got it.  Thanks for having my back, Wade.”

            “Anytime.  Now go!”

            Mark immediately announced, “Everybody!  I just got a call from my friend over in Media on Deimos.  We’re about to be hit with a major evacuation!  Code Mad King!”

            “That’s not funny,” Holly deadpanned.  “If that guy is as crazy as everyone says, no one would just call him coming back.”

            The remainder of the department scurried around in varying states of disbelief and panic.  “I am the last person to make a joke about that dick.  Move, people!  We have advance notice.  Use it to get your stuff in order!”

            “Okay, sorry.  I have to go get Ross and my birbs!” Holly stammered.

            The department scattered, and Mark called on Sean to pass the word around to everyone else.  “And Sean?  Make an extra spot on your cruiser.  I don’t have a ride, and I trust you to get us the hell out of here.”

            “With pleasure, Markimoo!” Sean announced, cutting the link and preparing to spread the word around.

            Back at the medical bay, the communicators all went off at once, and the resulting din halted Arin and Ross.  Dan, who had remained patient on his bed, stood up once more.  “I think it’s time to go, Captain,” he suggested.

            “Yeah, it’s time to go for all of us!” Jirard announced, his usual confidence rattled.  “I just got word that we’re about to have to get out of here.  Haywood’s back.  Ross, go find Holly NOW!”

            “Oh, shit.  No.  Fuckin’ Haywood?” Ross repeated in awe.

            “Who is Haywood?” Arin asked, distanced as he was from the Earth colonies.

            “Phobos’ only exile.  #1 Most Wanted in the Milky Way.  I need to make some calls when I get back to the Starbomb,” Dan explained while the staff got their own work and preparations ready.  “The NSP likes bounties and even they won’t hunt the guy.”

            Ross ran off, nearly colliding with Holly in the hallway on the way to their apartment wing.  He scooped her up into a hug and the two of them shared a moment before carrying on again.  “What’s the plan?  Are we taking an official ride or finding someone else?”

            “I’d rather not deal with the BITCH, but I know the only folks we know with ships have some pretty small cruisers.  Maybe room for 3 crew.  Our hands may be tied,” Holly explained as she unlocked their small apartment.

            “I just met an old friend out at the med bay,” Ross announced, “He has a ship.  It sounds pretty big too.  You think it may be worth it to ask?”

            “Anything helps,” Holly acknowledged, hurriedly packing what they brought to Phobos a few weeks ago back into her suitcase and protectively packaging up her BIRDs and control docks. 

            Just as she zipped the last suitcase, the whole room—no, the whole moon shook ominously.  The intercom crackled, and finally, the voice nobody wanted to hear resonated throughout the entire colony.  “Hello, Phobos, this is your Mad King speaking, and I have an important announcement!  I have made my base on Tyrrhenus Mons on Mars since you so rudely kicked me out, and now it’s time to bring you down.  Hard.  How hard, you may ask?  Well, as those of you who know anything about astronomy may know, Phobos is slowly spiraling inwards toward Mars.  I’m going to give it a little push, and if I aim right, I’m going to take out Earth Colonies A, B, and C on Mars while I’m at it.  This could be your technology, but you lost me, so the Rebel Traders took me in, and it’s now your downfall.  Good luck!”

            A moment of silence later, and then an official recording filled the airwaves.  “Attention Phobos Colony.  There has been a threat on the colony.  There is now a mandatory evacuation in place.  Please make your way to either the official transports or to private vessels.  This is not a drill.  Remain calm.  Further information will be communicated.”

            A metallic knock rang through the empty apartment.  “Come in!” Holly shouted as she gathered the suitcases together.

            “Hey, I just wanted to let you all know that I’m going with Sean, but thanks for being good neighbors.  Be safe.  Call me if you ever need me.  You have my comms, right?” Mark asked.

            “Yeah, be safe, Mark.  We got it.  We’ll be in touch, thanks!” Holly answered, grabbing him into a hug and pulling Ross over to join them.

            “And thanks for all the help with this,” Ross gestured at his new body.

            “No problem.  I’ll be in touch.  I am not sticking around for Haywood to mess me up worse than he already did,” Mark finished, choking back affection for his neighbors and hurrying away, his pink hair making an obvious tracker as he vanished into the growing crowd in the halls.

            “Let’s go find this friend of yours, and if we can’t, we’ll get on an official transport,” Holly urged, trying to keep ahead of the major crowds and panic.  The colony was now shaking a bit more noticeably, and had a feeling not unlike an elevator going down beneath their feet.

            “Last I saw him was in the med bay.  This is gonna be a bit weird, but he’s not exactly entirely human anymore, but I knew him back on Earth.  Good guy,” Ross explained, hefting the bigger suitcases with ease with the new strength he had.

            “Okay, let’s go,” Holly finalized, checking off everything she had and grabbing Ross’ hand.  The couple rushed to the medical bay, where they had apparently just missed Arin and Dan, but amidst thanks and goodbyes, Ross scanned the vanishing crowd and noticed a tall man with wild hair and a flash of a reptilian tail.

            “That’s them.  Let’s move!  Thanks everyone, don’t get killed!” Ross announced, setting off with more urgency.  Holly broke off her goodbyes and followed suit, catching up until they were in earshot.  “Arin!” Ross called, trying to catch up further.  The raptor captain paused. 

            He waited until he could see that Arin had paused, even though the crowd was a little peeved at the interruption in their flow. “Arin!  We don’t have transport and there’s no way we want to get on a glorified space bus.  Can we hitch a ride, at least until we can get somewhere safely?”

            “Better than dealing with the bitches at the BITCH.  We’ll catch up and then you and—oh hey, is this your wife?   Nice!—you and she can make your choices.  Follow me, and welcome to the Starbomb!”

             Holly breathed a sigh of relief as the pair adjusted course to follow their new plan, which immediately turned to cold fear as the colony shook more violently.  Pushing through the crowd with as much speed as they could muster, they finally arrived at the large pink, blue, and yellow starship.

            “Barry, open up!  Dan and I are back, and we have some new arrivals,” Arin shouted over the cacophony of shouts, shaking, announcements, and ship engines.

            “Got it!” Barry called back as the doors hissed open with the pressure changes between the inside and outside of the ship.

            A flash of pink and green caught in Holly’s peripherals, and she pointed at a small green cruiser nearby, which Mark and Sean were loading up hastily.  She nudged Ross, the pair waved a final goodbye for the time being, and then they followed Arin into their new accommodations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, the inspiration for bringing down Phobos comes from a study stating that Phobos is on a crash course for Mars within the next 10 million years. I decided to hurry it along. Prepare for even more shockers in the next chapters!
> 
> Also, happy winter holidays to everyone! It's hard to believe that it's almost Christmas and almost 2016.


	26. Out of the Chaotic Death Spiral

            Aboard the ship, Arin and Barry rushed through the landing procedures to escape Phobos as it gained momentum, pulled by the tractors from Haywood’s Tyrrhenus Mons base and the forces of gravity, before it got too difficult to make a takeoff.  Meanwhile, Ross and Holly found themselves a room among the spacious and empty living quarters, and Dan went to the sparse quarters that Barry had prepared for him upon his recovery to make a few calls.

            After several agonizing rings, Jack Douglass’ face appeared on Dan’s comm.  “Northern Trade Patrol, Douglass speaking,” he greeted before recognizing his caller.

            “Northern Trade Patrol?  Jack, are you losing it already?  We’ve been the Northern Star Patrol since you, Brock, Toby, and I founded it eight years ago.  We came up with that name on the Luna Base while we all regrouped from leaving Earth?  Come on, dude.”

            “Well, that’s why I was hoping to hear from you, Avidan.  We got an offer a bit too large to want to turn down, and we are doing a more permanent kind of work.  I mean, it’s with the Rebel Traders, so not the best group, but we all started this to make enough money to live more comfortably than we did on Earth!  Think of the missions we’ll get from them!” Jack explained manically.

            “I tolerated the fighting and even got good at it for you all because I really didn’t have anything else to do after I left Earth, but really?  Mercenaries for the goddamn Rebel Traders?  You know they just hooked up with fucking Ryan “The Mad King” Haywood, right?  The one guy even all of us won’t touch?  Son of a bitch, Jack.  That’s too much!” Dan entreated.

            “I don’t love it, but we’re talking in the billions of credits they offered, Dan.  We are well-trained, savvy, and we know what the people want.  I couldn’t refuse.  That said, if you want to go defend the RT’s newest investment at Tyrrhenus Mons, I’d even be willing to give you a cut of what they offered us personally.  Come on, man, think of the hot aliens you’d meet on the trade routes,” Jack enticed Dan.

            “I never knew you to be a greedy man, Jack, but either they were damn persuasive or I misjudged you.  They’re bringing down a goddamn moon!  And you want me to help?  Damn, dude.  I didn’t want to pull this out so soon, but my contract is nearly up.  I am officially breaking my contract right now with the Northern Star Patrol on the grounds of refusing to work for the buyer.  Good luck, Jack, and I hope this doesn’t bite you in the ass.”

            “That’s unfortunate, but I can’t fault a man for sticking to his guns.  You’re always welcome in the NTP whenever you wish.  Thank you for your service.  And by the way?  They were VERY persuasive…” Jack dropped off and mouthed the rest, “and not in the good way.  But they are listening.”

            As Jack hung up and Dan mulled over how quickly his former allies and friends fell, a sandy-haired Brit stepped forth into Jack’s command chamber.  “It really does suck he won’t see it your way, mate.  But we can make another Avidan, I think.  And we can make him however we want, you see, because I’m not the creative director of the Rebel Traders for nothing.  He’d suck my knob and thank me for it if I asked him to!” he laughed, brandishing a plan for a perfect genetic clone with a blank mental slate.

            “Well, I guess he’ll have to share your rank now, then, Rear Admiral Free.” Jack acknowledged.

            “And I promise, the new Rear Admiral Avidan will be better than the one who just won’t join us,” Free replied.

            Back on the Starbomb, Arin looked out the port window as he and Barry began the ascent out of the chaotic death spiral of Phobos, only to see the source of the tractor beam causing all the chaos was a giant golden castle on the mountain ranges of Mars. “Christ, this guy doesn’t fuck around,” Arin breathed as he and Barry dodged and weaved through the fleet of Phobosian refugee ships.  A squad of ships flew in patrol formations around the castle, trying to prevent any retaliation from the harried colonists.

           

            Dan emerged from his quarters and made himself comfortable in the common areas until the captain could speak with him, clad in a leather jacket and jeans instead of his military uniform for once.  “Whatever you do, do not set a course for Attitude City,” he warned, checking all news channels on his comm to try to pick a destination.

            “I thought we were taking you back?” Arin asked, his pupils drawn into tight slits from the focus involved in this operation.

            “Change in plans.  We’ll talk when this gridlock is clear,” Dan clarified.

            “Fair.  Barry, how much more of this?”

            “Not far, especially if we can get some lift.  Should I make some calls to find a safe dock or just find a cruising stretch of cosmos?”

            “I guess just cruise.  I have some captain’s maintenance to do and I have a feeling that some of our passengers may need time to settle in, get their space legs.”

            “Gotcha.  And… plotting course… boom.  We’re clear.  Setting course for a clear cruise.”

            “Okay, so what’s up?” Arin asked, swiveling in his captain’s chair and noticing the former soldier sprawled out on the common area couch.

            “Well, you saw those patrol ships?  That was what is left of the NSP.  Or now the Northern Trade Patrol.  They got bought out by the Rebel Traders and… well, something’s sketch, but my contract was almost up and so I cut out because I’m not going to work for that skeezy Mad King.  So stay away from that,” Dan sighed, “ And I guess now I’m a free agent.”

            “Well, do you want to join a crew or stay free?  I’d get it if you didn’t want to spend another minute around the guy who almost killed me, but you’re welcome to join my crew if you wanted another permanent arrangement,” Arin offered, swallowing hard with the effort of being so straightforward.

            Dan laughed for a good fifteen seconds before turning back to Arin.  “Sorry, the whole not wanting to be around someone who almost killed you thing is funny to me.  You know, you were the sixth person to almost kill me?  The fifth person was a Kogan ninja.  You see that scar on my eyebrow?  He gave me that.  And you know what?  Dude turned out to be one of my best friends,” he chuckled.

            “Wait, you’re friends with a ninja who almost killed you?  What kind of life do you have, dude?”

            “The interesting kind,” replied Dan with a wink.

            “That’s for fuckin’ certain.  So, thoughts on my offer?”

            Dan thought for a second, then decided on his course of action. “I spoke with Barry not long ago about the possibility of me leaving my contract, though I didn’t expect this reason.  He ran me through the same terms you used with Kevin.  I’m fine with it, at least if you can handle me.”

            “Well then, I guess go on and get settled in.  We have a crew of four now, yeah man!”

            “Cool.  Well, now that we’re not gonna get wrecked by a falling moon all _Zelda_ -style, I may as well go unpack my bags and make myself at home.  Thanks for having me, since I doubt you’d start patrolling for psycho Mad Kings anytime soon.  And hey, don’t worry about the shit on Theropodus.  We can talk it out later, but I know you’re not a dick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really inspired to keep going, even though this chapter is a lot shorter than 25.
> 
> The other Avidan is a hint you may get if you also follow dannyaviclan on Tumblr and know the storylines that people talk about there. If not, you're in for a treat!
> 
> Also, I don't hate Rooster Teeth, but it's fun to make references for both sides of the conflict. I'm not as big a fan of RT as I am of the Grumps, though, so I am making sure to both do research and ask a friend who really likes them to fact check if I am unsure.


	27. A Crew Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the massive delay in posting this, I hit some crazy times, writer's block, and also had to recover the fic off of my old laptop because it died. But without further ado, we return to the fic in progress...

Koga, Residential Districts

**KOGAN NINJA FORCE ASSASSINATION ORDER**

**Target:** Second Princess Antiopa Mothis of Nympha, aliases Suzy, Mortemer (stage name)

 **Bounty:** 1,000,000 Credits from Anonymous Patron

 **Details:** Stealth Protocols Recommended, standard KNF Combat Mods Authorized plus B. Wecht Telepathy Mod Exception Approved

            Brian read the order over again as he packed his assassination gear and several cloaking suits into a small spatial bending suitcase that he had designed as one of his first civilian projects.  With a run through his mental checklist, Brian shut the suitcase with an air of finality.  Thanks to the unfortunate lab incident, he had to go back on the front lines, which wasn’t his original plan, but at least his reputation did precede him enough to land a hefty bounty that could help pay for his re-retirement.

            After an incident-free transport to Nympha’s spaceport, Brian settled into his pre-approved accommodations and loaded up his private comm.  Should any nosy Nymphan moth person decide to check in on their off-planet traveler, the Kogan carefully set up an encryption that blocked all typical digital spying methods and settled in to research his target and plan to meet this mission’s goals.  He closed his eyes—now four compared to the usual two due to combat modifications—and tried to remember his last assassination plan, the one that got him out of the force in the first place.

            Fighting off a light smile behind his mask, Brian remembered the last person he had truly tried to kill back in the Great War of Koga and the deep gash above his target’s right eye that was all he could land even with thermal vision, enhanced reflexes, and training on his side.  He doubted that the very public persona of the Nymphan princess would lend her the same agility and experience that let Dan survive.  Granted, Brian had no intention of befriending this target, unlike how he felt after the talks in the negotiation room that led him to his unlikely friendship, so feelings would not be a concern.

            No, instead, the Princess was image conscious; she was the most public ruler that Nympha had encountered in years.  She was famous for her beauty and benevolence, though a faction had apparently grown that distrusted her as the face of the royal family.  This was where things would get difficult.

            Brian opened his eyes again, readjusted to the different view that he had not used for years, and began to research and plan.

            Meanwhile, on the Starbomb, the new crew was beginning to get on well.  With Barry’s encouragement, Arin and Dan had become inseparable quickly.  Ross and Holly had largely kept to themselves as they planned what would come next, but Arin had his suspicions that he would have new crew after he saw a full room dedicated to a robotic aviary already.  Considering the few talks he had had with Ross, this was looking more likely by the day.

            As Arin and Dan were playing a rousing game of _Frolf_ in the common living room, Barry pinged Arin’s communicator and announced, “Arin, it’s been a week since the whole Phobos incident.  I think you need to talk to Holly and Ross very soon.”

            “That sounds like it means something other than just a friendly idea, Barry,” Arin countered, hitting pause on his controller.

            “It may.”

            “You found something, didn’t you?” Arin pressed.

            “I may have, but it’s gonna take everyone being down for it.  This isn’t just some odd job posting.  This is a legitimate crew job,” Barry explained.

            “A crew job?  Get outta here!” Dan interjected.

            “You know, I heard you all talking about me,” Ross cut in as he entered the common area.

            “Damn, I can’t keep anything quiet between you and Barry!”

            Ross would have rolled his eyes if they were capable of that. “Well, stop trying to keep things quiet and tell me, then!”

            “Fine,” Arin huffed,” I was going to figure out how to mention it first, but let’s all talk about this now.  Kevin!  Holly!  We need you all out here!”

            Barry broadcast that message, and soon the young raptor and the pink-haired woman had joined the crew in front of the paused _Frolf_ display.  Holly stood by her husband, wrapping her arm around his shoulder but wincing when she bumped her wrist hard on his metal shoulder joint.  Kevin perched on the arm of a nearby chair, and when everyone was settled, including a holographic projection of Barry, Arin stood, imposing enough to make sure everyone knew he was doing captain business.

            “I know some of you are crew and that Ross and Holly are here because you needed a way off of Phobos.  I don’t mind if you stay or if you go, but we need to figure something out soon.  I need to take a new mission soon to cover supply costs, and Barry apparently found a golden opportunity.  The thing is, I need at least four or five people to do this, and unless Barry decides to take a robot body, we have three official crew.  I’m not going to force anyone to do anything, but I know that I work well with Ross, and Holly, you seem like a good person.”

            “So what’s the catch, then?” Ross countered.

            “No catch, but I either need you to join my crew or to pay rent if you stay.  I’m not out to screw anyone over here, but I am the captain here.  You can stay or leave, but I need to know soon.  And you can choose to leave later if you don't like it.”

            “Just like that, then?” Holly asked, looking at Ross to gauge his reaction.

            “I mean we would split the bounties, no war or anything, but pretty much,” Arin explained.

            Silence fell over the room as Ross and Holly mulled over their options.  “Holly, can we talk for a minute back in our room?” Ross asked, guiding Holly to their temporary quarters.

            “What do you think?  I know we have had nothing but craziness since the whole incident in Perth and I don’t want to get us into more if you’re not okay with it,” Holly explained, trying to exude calm despite nerves welling up underneath the façade.

            “I’m honestly used to it by now.  But if we want to make this whole robot body thing work we do need to make sure we have some sort of workshop for maintenance, and I know you have those BIRDs to handle.”

            “I think there’s a safe spot for that.  But you didn’t really tell me what you want, Ross.”

            “I guess I want to stay here.  I mean I kind of wanted to settle down but with all the freakin’ insane shit happening, this seems more settled than a lot of things.”

            “You knew Arin back on Earth, right?  Before I make a final choice, be honest.  Do you think we can trust him?  I mean he seems nice, if a bit unusual, but what about as a captain?”

            “We’re animators, so I don’t know shit about him as a captain, but he’s smart as hell and gets things done, so… I guess?  I mean if he turns out to suck, he said we could leave, right?”

            “Okay, then.  I guess let’s do it.”

            “I guess so,” Ross finalized, pulling Holly in for a hug (and trying very hard to remember to be gentle since he wasn’t used to his own strength yet).  The two shared a brief moment, smiled, and went back to the main crew.

            “We talked about it.  Ross and I are officially joining your crew.  Let’s talk about this golden opportunity,” Holly announced.  The rest of the crew cheered at their new additions, numbers swelling as if by fate, as Barry switched the display from _Frolf_ to a mission brief.

            “Welcome to the crew, you two!” Arin greeted, “Now I know this is the first real mission since Theropodus, and so everyone just came on recently, but I don’t want to miss out on this.  Barry?”

             “Well, guys, I found an interesting posting for a job.  Apparently there’s a pretty heavy need for some extra security on Nympha, and we have a good crew makeup to take the job on.  No war, just some threats came up that they need some extra help with...” Barry began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for the lack of regular updates!
> 
> Suzy's planet and name are based on the Nymphalis Antiopa, the Mourning Cloak Butterfly, which can be found in California and has a wing pattern reminiscent of her dark hair with a blonde streak, plus some of them have dots that don't entirely look unlike her arm tattoo. We will see much more of Suzy in chapters to come, but I thought it was time to bring her into play and bring Brian back.


	28. Regarding the future of AAPG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A message from the author

This is Landshark.

When I started this fiction, I was unemployed, just married, and had a lot of free time.

I continued this work as I began my job at my local community college. I've since moved up a bit, though I still work part time. I also now work as a freelance editor and am less than a year from having a Master's Degree. My husband and I just got a house, too, so we're moving this month.

So, in short, I'm in an entirely different life situation. I'm very busy now. I don't feel that that will change enough to feasibly finish AAPG at this point, plus there have been so many lineup changes and controversies (since I was originally looking to bring Jon in) that I feel that, by ignoring this work, I've written myself into a corner.

The Grumps helped me get through unemployment and wedding stress, and even now, they bring smiles to my face. I still watch and love their work, and I love the community I've met because of the common fandom, but I don't feel that I have the time now to participate much in fan content.

Kate (dannyaviclan) created an AU that really inspired me. I'm so happy to have discovered this, as well as many other great works in the Grump fandom. The Lovelies are great.

Thanks so much for reading what I have written. This is blanket permission to keep the work going if you wish. I love that I was able to help contribute to the fandom in some small way.

Be well, and I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.


End file.
